Skelley's Kid
by CharlieCaller
Summary: Complete!. Who could imagine the trouble that one twelve-year-old kid could get someone into? After taking custody of Ally Blake, Jesse begins to find out just how much trouble he’s landed himself in.
1. Prologue

Skelley's Kid  
  
  
  
Disclaimer: The characters Mark Sloan, Steve Sloan, Amanda Bentley and Jesse Travis do not belong to me, they are owned by CBS & Viacom. I am not making a profit out of using them. I DO own Ally Blake, though.  
  
Summary: Who could imagine the trouble that one twelve-year-old kid could get someone into? After taking custody of Ally Blake, Jesse begins to find out just how much trouble he's landed himself in.  
  
Prologue  
  
  
  
Alicia Blake whistled down the street, and turned the corner into the alley. She climbed the stairs to her apartment that she shared with her father, and put her key in the door.  
  
"Hey, Dad!" Ally called. "I'm home! I brought some groceries…"  
  
The moment she walked in, she knew that something was up. The house was too quiet, and the blinds were shut.  
  
"Dad?" Ally called out again. Still no answer.  
  
She then noticed a small container on the counter in the kitchen. As she neared it, she also noted the envelope next to it. Then, she saw the foot that belonged to her father. There was blood pouring from a gash in his head. "Dad?" She felt for his pulse. She sighed as she felt nothing.  
  
Even in the given situation, Ally knew that she had to keep calm. She turned to the envelope. It had her name on it and inside was a letter.  
  
  
  
Dear Ally,  
  
I am so sorry, Ally. I'm sorry for this whole mess. This may seem selfish, like I am taking the easy way out for myself and no one else, but you are in a lot of danger, and this is the only way to keep you out of it. You know that I've been in trouble all my life, but this time I owe Frankie Pasco so much money that I can't pay it, and he threatened to hurt you. I could not let that happen.  
  
You are not alone, Al. As usual, I've got a plan. There is someone who you can go to for help. Legally, he's a cousin of mine, but otherwise, he's a guy who owes me a favour or two. I haven't seen him in about five years, but I've been keeping a check on this guy in case the situation got to this. He's in LA, and he works at Community General Hospital. Los Angeles is a couple of hours away, down south, and I booked you a plane ticket. It's on the counter. Anyway, go to Community General Hospital, and ask for JESSE TRAVIS, okay honey? You've seen him once. The short, blonde guy, remember him? He's an okay kinda guy, a legit guy, and he'll know what to do. Just remind him about THE DEAL, got that? Remember, for both your safety and his, tell him to keep you out of sight for a while.  
  
I really am so sorry about this, Ally. I love you so much, and I will always be lookin' out for you, no matter where I am.  
  
Love always,  
  
Dad.  
  
Ps. Before you even consider it, that's a strict NO on taking my car, and that is an order.  
  
  
  
Trust you, Dad, Ally thought to herself. I only took your car once, just the one time. And since then you've hidden the keys, so I wouldn't be able to have taken it again, would I?  
  
Oh, and Dad, I am not taking the plane. I hate airplanes, remember? So, I'm going to take your motorbike instead. You said nothing about that, so I'm guessing that's okay. 


	2. Skelley

Skelley  
  
  
  
Ally was a streetwise twelve-year-old who had been raised on the wrong side of the tracks. Her father, Stanley Blake, had raised her as best he could, but it was difficult.  
  
The girl had picked up a lot of her streetsmart instincts from her father. He had taught her how to pick a lock from the age of six, and she had been learning other tricks since, from both her father and his friends.  
  
Ally, as she packed a bag of clothes, was upset about her father. Although she had learnt to fend for herself from an early age, she relied a lot on him, as he was her only parent. Stan had loved his daughter so much, and would do anything for her. Ally knew that it was his way of protecting her, and she thanked him for it.  
  
"This guy in legit, so he'll want to play by the rules, won't he," Ally said to herself. "Guess that means that when I get there, I'll have to sort some stuff out. Dad knew a couple of guys in LA, didn't he? There was Scott Wiley, and that computer genius Zack Reninski. I think I'll pay them a visit when I get to LA."  
  
With that, Ally went downstairs, and opened the doors to the storeroom. The black bike shone in the dim light. If her father knew that she was going to ride it, he'd go wild. But, this was an emergency, and she refused to travel by airplane. She put the helmet on, threw the bag on her back, and started the bike to LA.  
  
After three hours, Ally finally found herself in the parking lot at Community General Hospital, LA. She chose the underground lot, and picked a spot that was desolate. That way, she would not been seen as a twelve- year-old that just got off a bike.  
  
Ally knew well enough not to ask questions until the situation became hopeless. She started into the hospital, and wandered around the different floors of the hospital. After twenty minutes of this, she got her bearings, and started listening to the different conversations of the doctors, hoping to pick up the name of Jesse or Travis somewhere in the conversations.  
  
The youngster had become an expert in this sort of thing. Her father had asked her to do it once or twice, but she practiced it a lot at school, and found out that it was a useful trade.  
  
Finally, she heard a nurse talking to another doctor. "I'm just going to see Doctor Travis about the patient in room 225. His fever seems to have gone up."  
  
"You'll find him in the Doctor's Lounge," the doctor replied.  
  
Ally had passed the Doctor's Lounge a couple of times. She followed the doctor, and heard him talk to someone new.  
  
"Hey, kid, are you lost?" The doctor walked out of the Lounge and saw Ally. "Are you looking for someone?"  
  
"Nope, I'm not lost," the girl told him. "Just waiting for someone, thank you." The doctor shrugged and walked off.  
  
Ally turned into the Doctor's Lounge, and bumped straight into the doctor.  
  
"Excuse me," Ally said. She saw the nametag on the doctor's jacket. Dr. Jesse Travis, it read. Finally!  
  
"Do I know you?" Jesse asked, seeing the girl looking mildly familiar.  
  
"You may have done, but whether or not you did before, you sure are about to," the girl gabbled in reply.  
  
"Pardon?" Jesse asked.  
  
"I say, you may have done, as in you may have known me, but whether or not you knew me before doesn't matter, because you are about to know me," Ally replied slowly so that Jesse could understand.  
  
"Dr Travis," one of the other doctors called to him. "We've just received news of a plane crash at LA airport. The plane took off a couple of hours ago, from North of here. First ambulances arrive in five minutes."  
  
Ally froze. Two hours? North? LA airport? That was the plane SHE was going to be on! She went white, knowing that she escaped death or severe injury.  
  
Jesse saw the girl go white. "Hey, kid, you okay?"  
  
Ally mentally shook her head to get her focused. "Yeah," she replied. "Can I talk to you later, when you are less busy?"  
  
"Well, okay then," Jesse said, wondering what this girl needed to talk to him about. "You can wait in the Doctor's Lounge. I could be a while, though."  
  
"Don't worry, I've got all the time in the world," Ally replied, heading into the room.  
  
  
  
About an hour and a half later, Jesse moseyed into the Doctor's Lounge. He himself had sorted through at least twenty people on the plane, and he was worn-out. He headed straight for the nearest source of caffeine. He noticed that the girl still seemed to be there.  
  
"Still here?" Jesse asked, pouring himself a cup of coffee.  
  
"I never break promises," Ally told him.  
  
"So, what was it that you wanted to talk about?" Jesse asked. "My name's Jesse Travis, if you don't know that already."  
  
"I'm Ally," the girl told him.  
  
"Okay, Ally," Jesse began. "What did you want to talk about? I'm all ears."  
  
"Eyes come in handy, too," she said, handing him the letter from her father.  
  
Jesse read it, and when he had finished, set in on the table. "I'm sorry, Ally," Jesse said calmly, "but you must have got the wrong guy."  
  
"Wrong guy?" Ally asked. "You're Jesse Travis. You're in Community General Hospital, in LA, and you're short and blonde. How many people do you know who fit that description?"  
  
"Just me," Jesse said, taking slight offence to the short part. "But, who is your father? I'm not sure I know him."  
  
"Oh, how stupid of me!" Ally exclaimed. "That's why you got confused. I got one word for you, pal."  
  
"And what's that?"  
  
"Skelley."  
  
"Ske…" Jesse began, and then his eyes became wide. Oh no, he thought. Stan "Skelley" Blake. That name ALWAYS meant trouble. 


	3. No Way

No Way  
  
  
  
"You are Skelley's little girl?"  
  
"Hey, lay off the little," Ally objected.  
  
"Then you lay off the short," Jesse retorted.  
  
"Fine," Ally said. "At least your memory seemed to have been refreshed."  
  
"Indeed," Jesse commented. "Skelley committed suicide?"  
  
"Hey, why didn't you become a detective as apposed to a doctor," Ally asked sarcastically.  
  
"Ha ha," Jesse replied with just as much sarcasm. "You seem cut up about it."  
  
"I guess I don't," Ally replied. "I was cut up about m… but Dad… he was just different. When I was eight or nine, Dad had to raise me on his own. He had a lot of trouble, because he was always away and stuff. I had to raise myself. Sounds harsh, but it happened, c'est la vie. He was always doing his business, you know."  
  
"By the sound of it, the business was probably not legal," Jesse mumbled.  
  
"Again, Sherlock strikes again," Ally remarked, not waiting long enough for Jesse's flippant comeback. "Dad wasn't really much of a Dad. Sure, biologically and stuff, he was my Dad, but otherwise he was a guy that gave me money to get me food when the refrigerator got empty. Deal with it. I had to."  
  
Jesse couldn't really believe it, so he changed the subject. "So, what this letter is saying is that you get to live in my apartment for who knows how long?"  
  
"Yep," Ally replied brightly.  
  
"No way," Jesse told her flatly.  
  
"No way?" Ally asked, deflated. "How can you say no way to a dead man's daughter?"  
  
"It won't be that bad," Jesse told her. "I'll just find you an orphanage or somewhere to go to. A foster home, perhaps."  
  
"You obviously do not get it," Ally stated. "I mean, you obviously do not give a damn if I get skinned alive by Frankie Pasco."  
  
"Ally, none of this is legal! The fact that your father is dead somewhere, and then you travel all the way from wherever you came from to live with a perfect stranger."  
  
"It was Dad's dying wish, all right?" Ally shouted back at him.  
  
"Ally, cool it," Jesse said. "Look, it's too late to contact social services tonight. You can spend one night at my apartment, and then tomorrow, you go."  
  
"I still don't get why I can't stay with you," Ally sulked with a pout on her face.  
  
"As I said, none of this is legal. I'd be putting my career on the line, for a start, and that is something that I have worked hard for. Plus, I'd get fined and probably put into jail."  
  
"Is that all you're worried about?" Ally asked offhandedly. "I thought you'd be worried about Frankie Pasco coming to skin you alive, after me."  
  
"I don't care about that," Jesse said, only caring slightly. "Like you father said, I play by the rules."  
  
"Fine," Ally said. "By the way, I've got my bike in the underground parking lot. Can I ride it home or is there somewhere I can keep it?"  
  
"You cycled here? From, where is it you live?"  
  
"I didn't cycle here," Ally laughed. "Bike as in motorbike."  
  
Jesse opened his mouth to say something, but he decided to be tactful. "Leave the bike here, give the keys to me, and you can ride in my car."  
  
  
  
"Hey, don't sulk," Jesse told Ally as she sat with her arms folded and her lips pouted. The two were travelling home in Jesse's car, and Ally was not in the best mood, according to Jesse.  
  
"Don't sulk?" Ally reacted heatedly. "He's giving me a first-class ticket to death and he's telling me not to sulk about it. That's just charming, isn't it."  
  
"Hey, I'm sure foster homes and such aren't that bad," Jesse told her. "I've got a very good friend who was fostered, and it turned out great."  
  
"You still don't get it, do you," Ally sighed.  
  
"And besides, you might not even go to a foster home. There could be some family out there. What about your mom?"  
  
"You can shut up about my mom as of now," Ally growled.  
  
Point taken, Jesse thought to himself.  
  
He kept quiet until Ally asked, "what favour did you owe my Dad?"  
  
"Nothing," Jesse muttered.  
  
"I'll bet that he saved your sorry butt," Ally told him. "And, you're just gonna let his daughter, his only kid, to be skinned alive? That's also charming."  
  
"You've got quite a mouth for a ten-year-old," Jesse commented.  
  
"Twelve, actually," Ally put him right. "I'm not even going to attempt to guess your age."  
  
"Probably wise," Jesse murmured as he pulled into a parking space. "We're here."  
  
  
  
Jesse opened the door to his apartment, and gestured for Ally to walk in before himself. Ally walked in a few paces, and stopped, taking in the apartment.  
  
"It's not much," Jesse told her modestly as he hung his coat up.  
  
Ally wanted to tell Jesse that compared to her old place, his apartment was something of a palace. It was clean, for a start. It was a lot bigger than the other one, and it had a lot of love in it, even for just one person living there.  
  
"It's great," Ally whispered softly.  
  
"Here," Jesse said, taking her coat and hanging it on a peg. "Have a seat."  
  
Ally settled onto the couch. "Would you like a drink?" Jesse asked her.  
  
"Just a glass of water, please," Ally replied, still taking in the apartment.  
  
A few moments later, he handed Ally the glass, and he then settled down in an armchair.  
  
"So," Jesse began, "tell me a bit about yourself."  
  
This made no sense to Ally. "You're going to dump me somewhere in the morning, and you still want to know about me?"  
  
"Or, I could hazard a guess at what you are like," Jesse changed his approach. "I guess you are smart, outgoing, daring, not afraid to do anything. And, I think you are probably a pretty streetwise kid."  
  
"You are close, but there are some things I am afraid of," Ally told him, feeling pretty good that Jesse summed her up so well.  
  
"Like what?" Jesse asked her.  
  
"Like nothing I'm going to tell you," Ally told him. "It's a bit stupid telling a stranger your weak points, because they could use them against you."  
  
"Fair enough," Jesse commented.  
  
"Now, you," Ally began. "At a guess, I'd say that you were one of these people that could remain calm in most situations. I also guess that you are brave, understanding and selfless."  
  
"I might be," Jesse said, yawning. "Come on, it's late. I'll see you in the morning."  
  
  
  
  
  
Note: Thanks for the reviews! To Jenben: I hope this kinda covers your point a bit. And I have more to write on the subject later. Hope that you keep reading! 


	4. Changed Your Tune

Changed Your Tune  
  
  
  
What should I do? Ally is a great kid, sure, but is any of this stuff legal? What would someone else do in my position? Who else would be doomed enough to get in my position? Why do these things always seem to happen to me?  
  
Questions zipped around Jesse's mind as he lay in his bed, trying to get to sleep. He was trying to work out what to do. He would love to keep Ally, and not send her to be fostered, but there were so many things that prevented that from happening. He worked a lot, for a start, and never regular hours. And then there was the little matter of the fact that none of it was really legal, what he was doing. He should have reported the child to the social services long ago.  
  
"There has got to be a way out of this," he mumbled to himself. "Something has got to go right for this kid." With that last thought in his head, he drifted off to sleep. He never heard the door to his apartment open and shut sometime later.  
  
  
  
Sunshine was beginning to creep through his curtains when Jesse yawned, stretched, and glanced at the clock. "Just gone half past six," he muttered to himself, getting out of bed. He got washed and dressed, and as he made his way towards the kitchen, he passed the door to the spare room. It was open a crack, so Jesse peeked into the room. His jaw hit the floor to see an empty bed.  
  
"What?" he stuttered, not quite able to get the words out. "Don't tell me they've got her!"  
  
He looked around the entire room, and was about to give up when he came across a note on the side table.  
  
Hi! Gone out, be back before 8am, Ally.  
  
That girl is so informative, Jesse thought to himself. At least she wasn't skinned alive, as she had put it several times the previous day. But, whatever she was doing probably meant more trouble for him. He tried hard not to think about all the trouble he was about to end up in.  
  
It was about half an hour before Jesse heard a knock on the door. He set his cup of coffee and breakfast on the counter, and opened the door.  
  
"Like I said, I never break a promise," Ally told Jesse as she stepped into the apartment.  
  
Jesse had planned to tell her off when she arrived home, but he thoroughly was lost for words.  
  
"Wanna know where I went, and why?" Ally asking, reading the man's mind. Jesse nodded. "Well, you see, I know a few of Dad's friends here in LA, and they sorted everything out for you and me."  
  
Jesse frowned, not liking the sound of what he was hearing. "What was it that you sorted out?"  
  
"A few things, actually. I went to see Scott Wiley, a pal of my Dad's, and we went to see Zack Reninski, a computer genius. They sorted some stuff out for me. Here's the scenario. Dad and I were on the plane that crashed yesterday. Dad's body will be taken there about now. Me? No one knows. I am a mystery."  
  
"Okay, and that legally helps me how?"  
  
"Well, listen and I'll explain. Here," she said, showing him a piece of paper.  
  
Jesse read it. The piece of paper was a legal document, showing that since Skelley was missing, Jesse had temporary custody of Ally.  
  
"Hang on, if you're a mystery, how do you suddenly appear in my apartment?"  
  
"This was not the easiest thing to plan, you know," Ally told him. "And besides, this is only if someone sees me."  
  
"And if they realise that something doesn't fit? You can't lie forever, you know."  
  
"Something has to work," Ally said. "I've got to stay with someone, or I'll be killed." That struck Jesse. It was the first time that she had used the word "killed" and he was really beginning to see the situation in a new light.  
  
"I don't know," Jesse began. "I'm a busy guy, Ally."  
  
"Hey, don't worry about that!" Ally persisted. "Just forget I'm here, I'll be good, I promise. No illegal stuff or anything like that, and you can have Dad's bike. I won't be a burden; you won't even know I'm here. It will be just like living with Dad again."  
  
Jesse softened. He knew that Ally wasn't planning or plotting inside her head, trying to achieve something. This was her, pouring out her feelings.  
  
It was then that the thinking Jesse did the previous night came to a conclusion. "Ally, as I said, I'm a busy guy. What I wanted to ask was, do you think you could live with me? Would you like to live with me, given that I am at work a lot? If you could, then I am ok with you living here."  
  
Ally looked up into Jesse's eyes as he continued. "I know I got mad yesterday, and said that I'd send you off to the social services just because it wasn't playing by the rules, but I've changed my mind. You've been messed around in your life enough as it is, and I think that it's time you decide what you want to do. Playing by the rules doesn't cut everything."  
  
Ally stood, taking in what Jesse was saying. When he finished, a smile broke across Ally's face. "You've changed your tune. What suddenly did that, eh? I mean, last night, you were all for throwing me into the hands of the social services. Now, you want me to stay?"  
  
"I am letting you stay," Jesse told her, putting the emphasis on the word 'letting.' "I am allowing you to make up your own mind, for a change. It's up to you, what you want."  
  
Ally sat and thought about what Jesse had said for a moment, and then said with a grin, "You know what, Jesse Travis? For a short, blonde guy, you are pretty cool."  
  
"I'll take that as a compliment," Jesse said with a grin. "I also take it that you'll be staying?"  
  
"This guy really is Sherlock Holmes, isn't he," Ally smirked. 


	5. It's All Legal

It's All Legal  
  
  
  
Four weeks later, Ally was beginning to settle into her new life. She had only been outside the apartment once, and not for long.  
  
Jesse had found it easier than first thought to keep Ally. He imagined her being a problem, but found that she was almost the opposite. She kept the apartment clean, and sometimes even managed to cook some dinner.  
  
"You don't have to do all this," Jesse told her as he came home one evening to see spaghetti Bolognese on the table, and to see that she had cleaned the kitchen for him.  
  
"I may as well do something whilst I'm here," Ally told him, setting two glasses on the table. "It's not like a got a whole mountain of other stuff to do around here."  
  
Jesse noticed that Ally had taken interests in things in his apartment. She read a lot of books, even a lot of medical books, which Jesse had in his apartment.  
  
"Aren't those a bit dull?" Jesse asked her, as he found Ally with her nose in yet another medical book.  
  
"It's not that bad," Ally said, studying the work in the book. "Pretty interesting for something educational."  
  
It was seeing that Ally was really settled in his home, and that things were working out well, that made him go out and settle things.  
  
"Hi, was there an emergency at the hospital?" Ally asked as Jesse walked in late one evening.  
  
"No, sorry I'm late," Jesse replied, hanging his jacket up. "I went to sort a few things out."  
  
"Oh?" she asked, looking up from the TV guide.  
  
"I don't know if you read the newspaper or not, but your father's body was picked up by a fishing boat a couple of weeks ago."  
  
Ally's eyes were wide. "Scott didn't do the best of jobs hiding Dad, it seems."  
  
"Well, he wasn't as bad as you might think," Jesse told her, sitting in the armchair. "Found in a glass bottle with the body was a note requiring that I should take care of you, as a will of your father."  
  
"Really?" Ally asked him. "Was it a legal will?"  
  
"Yes, it was. Scott must have found a will from your father, and must have planted it on the body."  
  
"So, I can legally live with you?"  
  
"It's all legal."  
  
"Wait a minute, none of this adds up," Ally began. "For example, why would Dad just randomly end up in the sea with a will in a glass bottle?"  
  
"The police have named it a suicide. What else don't you think adds up?"  
  
"Well, I have actually been living with you for two weeks before Dad supposedly kicked the bucket. What about that? And there's the fact that he's already been dead two weeks. Won't autopsies and stuff figure that out?"  
  
"You've been reading my medical books again," Jesse observed. "Well, they FOUND him two weeks ago, but he could have drowned himself before that. They guess that he drowned himself two weeks before they found him," he added with a grin.  
  
"And the fact that I've been living with you two weeks before they found him?"  
  
"My story was that he dropped you off here to visit for a fortnight whilst he sorted out some business. The authorities were slightly annoyed that I left it another two weeks before I came to talk to them, but I told them that it was a week before we found out, and it took me a week to calm you down from the shock."  
  
"Hold it, reverse there. You went to the authorities?!"  
  
"Well, I had to register that you are actually living with me on a permanent basis," Jesse told her, giving her the documentation to prove it.  
  
"You?" Ally stammered. "You, you actually got legal documents, allowing that I can live with you permanently?"  
  
Jesse nodded. Ally skimmed the text, and looked up, smiling. "It's all okay!"  
  
"Whoa, hold it kiddo," Jesse slowed her down. "It may all be legal now, but there is still someone out there who is looking for vengeance against your father. If they know that he is dead, then they'll be out looking for you. We have just as much to worry about."  
  
Ally nodded as Jesse continued. "For the next month, we're okay. You don't need to go to school until September, and it's okay for now, since it's only the beginning of August. For the moment, you'll need to keep a low profile."  
  
"NOW he stops worrying about the legal stuff, and then realises that maybe that there is something out there that's gonna kick our butts a bit harder than formalities."  
  
"All right, all right, so I'm worried."  
  
"So you should be," Ally said decidedly.  
  
"If there are any signs of trouble, ANYTHING at all, I got a very good friend on the police force who can help us out."  
  
"What's the bet that it's the guy who makes the coffee," Ally teased.  
  
"Actually, he's a Lieutenant, the best homicide detective that LA has to offer."  
  
"Let me get this straight, you're trying to make me feel better by telling me that a murder detective will help us out? Won't it be a bit late by the time he comes into action?"  
  
"He doesn't only do homicide investigations," Jesse rolled his eyes. "He helps out his friends."  
  
"How friendly are you with Mr. Homicide Detective?"  
  
"He's my best friend," Jesse told her.  
  
"Wow, friends in high places," Ally noted. "Have you told him about me yet?"  
  
"No, why?"  
  
"You were pretty wise. If you told him before you sorted all this out, then it could have put him in a really difficult position."  
  
"Guess that's why I didn't tell him before."  
  
"Are you going to tell him about me now that it's all sorted out? He could be like a bodyguard or something."  
  
"I'm sure he has more pressing business than to stand by your side all day and watch over you," Jesse laughed. "But, I will tell him. Him and two other friends."  
  
"Ooh, the guy has more than one friend," Ally observed.  
  
"I have lots of friends, thank you very much," Jesse told her. "But these three are my closest friends."  
  
"I can't wait to meet them," Ally told him sincerely. "I got one last question, though. Do I have to call you Dad, or is Jesse still acceptable?"  
  
Jesse raised his eyebrows at the thought of someone calling him 'Dad.' "You can call me Jesse," he told her, ruffling her hair. 


	6. Nervous

Nervous  
  
  
  
"Morning," Mark greeted Jesse as he walked into the Doctor's Lounge.  
  
Jesse jumped a mile at the sound of Mark's voice. He had been deeply in thought regarding how to tell his friends about Ally. Jesse gathered himself and replied, "morning, Mark. How are you?"  
  
"A little less jumpy than you seem to be," Mark observed as he sat at Jesse's table. "Are you nervous about something?"  
  
"A little," Jesse answered quietly.  
  
"Have you got to make a speech or something?" Mark asked him. "Speeches always make me nervous. I always do something like drop my cards, or stumble over words or something. Then again, I always practice too much."  
  
Jesse laughed. "It's not really a speech. Just, something."  
  
"Something?" Mark asked him, growing more curious by the moment.  
  
"Something I gotta say to someone."  
  
"To who?"  
  
Jesse swallowed. "You, Amanda and Steve."  
  
Mark was now so curious about the whole matter that he was on the edge of his seat with interest.  
  
"Us?" Mark enquired.  
  
"Yeah. I gotta introduce you all to someone."  
  
Mark grinned to himself. "Got a girlfriend, have you?"  
  
Jesse chuckled. "Not exactly."  
  
Mark frowned, wondering what on earth Jesse was getting so nervous about telling his three closest friends.  
  
"I'll tell you now, as apposed to later," Jesse continued, not making a lot of sense to Mark. "But, don't say anything about it to the others, not yet. I want to tell them myself."  
  
"Sure Jesse," Mark replied slowly.  
  
"Well," Jesse began. "I'm a father."  
  
Marks eyebrows shot upwards and his lower jaw headed to the floor. "You're a father? When's it due? Who is the mother?"  
  
"It's already here and I don't know who the mother is," Jesse answered his questions.  
  
"It's already here and you don't know who the mother is?!" Mark repeated in astonishment. "That was kinda sudden, I mean it takes about nine months… is it a boy or a girl?"  
  
"It's a girl, and she's twelve years old."  
  
If Mark's eyebrows and jaw could have gone any further apart, they definitely did after hearing that statement. "Twelve years old? When I said kinda sudden, I should have said very sudden. You've been a father for twelve years and you've kept it a secret?"  
  
"I haven't actually been a father for twelve years," Jesse told him.  
  
Mark rolled his eyes. "Now you have lost me. I think you'd better start from the beginning."  
  
"The story is a long one," Jesse said. "What it all adds up to is that a cousin of mine committed suicide, and I've got custody of his kid."  
  
"That's not so bad," Mark replied. "Why did you get so nervous about telling me that?"  
  
"That's not the entire story," Jesse told him. "I'll tell you the rest when the others arrive."  
  
"Okay," Mark concluded, knowing that it was never wise to try and get too much out of someone at one time. "How's Saturday lunchtime at the beach house?"  
  
"Sounds great," Jesse responded. "Set five places, I'll bring Ally along."  
  
"Ally. Is that her name?"  
  
"Yeah. It's short for Alicia," Jesse explained.  
  
"What a great name," Mark smiled.  
  
  
  
"Hey, Ally," Jesse called as he entered the house. "Ally? Are you home?"  
  
"In here," Ally called from the bathroom. "Did you know that I'm not your only house guest?"  
  
"Pardon?" Jesse asked as he walked into the cramped bathroom.  
  
"I think it's a boy," Ally told him, turning around and showing a jar to Jesse. Inside was a small mouse.  
  
"A mouse?" Jesse asked, taking a step back.  
  
"Come on, don't tell me you are afraid of this little guy," Ally said quietly as she walked out of the bathroom.  
  
"Where did you find it?" Jesse asked, his eyes not leaving the glass jar.  
  
"In here, in the crack between the bottom of the sink and the wall," Ally explained. "And if you don't mind, his name is Mickey."  
  
"That's original," Jesse commented.  
  
"Well if you had a mouse, what would you call it?" Ally enquired.  
  
"I wouldn't have a mouse," Jesse replied firmly.  
  
"What if you did? What would you call it?" Ally persisted.  
  
"IF on the off chance I had a mouse, I'd probably call it Squeak or something."  
  
"Squeak?" Ally asked, amused. "At least Mickey has some style."  
  
"Anyway, I have some news," Jesse changed the subject, hoping that Ally would forget about the mouse.  
  
"News?"  
  
"We are going to see my three friends on Saturday," Jesse told her.  
  
"Wow, really?" Ally exclaimed, who was at the point of going mad at always being inside the house. "You mean I can actually go out of this place? Where do these friends live?"  
  
"Two of them live in a house in Malibu, which is where we are going."  
  
"To the beach?" Ally asked, her eyes wide.  
  
"Have you never been to the beach before?" Jesse asked her.  
  
"Never," Ally told her. "I've never seen the ocean."  
  
"You poor kid! You don't know what you've been missing," Jesse told her. "Before we go, I'll give you some money and you can buy yourself some swimwear." He put his hand in his pocket and got his wallet out.  
  
"You don't have to do that," Ally said. "Besides, wouldn't it be a bit dangerous going out to the shops this early?"  
  
"I'd let you get one out of a catalogue, but it wouldn't arrive in time. Anyway, I'm your, well, I'm your father now, right?" Jesse was new to the concept and was still trying to get used to it. "Since that is the case, I am the one who has to buy things for you."  
  
Ally nodded. "Just so long as it's not too much of a risk."  
  
"I'll be there, keeping an eye on you, and we can go at a peak time, so that it's not too quiet. Would that be wise?"  
  
"It's probably best," Ally agreed. "It's probably better to go then as apposed to when there are less people around. That way, if on the off- chance they are looking for us, it will be difficult to spot us in a crowd."  
  
"Okay," Jesse settled the conversation. "Friday afternoon, after school. I'll take a really, really late lunch break and take you out. I've only got an hour, though."  
  
"No problem," Ally told him. "I'm not one of these kinds of girls that spends hours messing around trying to choose what to wear."  
  
"That's good to know," Jesse laughed.  
  
  
  
  
  
Note: I had actually already written this by the time I got my 4th review (the one that suggests some of the stuff in here.) I know that its been a long wait for some of the other characters to be included, but I had to include all the other stuff to make it legal. There will be some action soon – I promise! -- Bec :) (Oh yeah also I'm English so my writing is probably English sounding too, not a lot I can do about that -- sorry!) 


	7. How Much Trouble

How Much Trouble?  
  
  
  
"Jesse, it's half past two," Mark told him. "When did you plan on taking your lunch break?"  
  
"At just gone three o'clock," Jesse replied, signing a chart and giving it to a nurse.  
  
"Why so late?" Mark asked him.  
  
"I'm taking Ally out shopping, to buy her a bathing suit or something," Jesse told him. "She hasn't got one, and I thought that since we were going to the beach house tomorrow, she could have some time swimming. She's never seen the sea before, you see."  
  
"I see," Mark chuckled. "So, you plan to spend an hour taking her shopping?"  
  
"Not exactly. I planned to take her shopping for not more than half an hour, then drop her home, and then drive quickly back to the hospital. If there's no traffic, I should be able to make it back all right."  
  
"You know, Jess," Mark began. "They call it lunch break for a reason. It's the time that you tend to have your lunch, remember?"  
  
"Oh yeah, I forgot about that part," Jesse quipped. "I'll grab something on the way back to the hospital."  
  
"I've got a better idea," Mark said. "How about after you go shopping, you bring Ally back here to the hospital? She could stay in my office if she wants, there's plenty to do in there."  
  
Jesse thought about this for a moment. Was it too risky, bringing Ally to such a public place? Would she be spotted? He thought about the hospital, and Mark's office, and after remembering that few people went in his office on a Friday afternoon, he decided it was safe.  
  
"Sure thing, Mark," Jesse replied. "That's a better idea. Are you sure it wouldn't bother you, having a twelve-year-old girl in your office?"  
  
"How much trouble is she?" Mark asked him.  
  
"Well, I'm still waiting on that broken window to be fixed," Jesse said sincerely. After seeing the look on Mark's face, he laughed and said, "I'm kidding, I'm kidding! She'll be well-behaved, I promise."  
  
"And if she isn't, then the damages are coming out of your salary," Mark chuckled.  
  
"I gotta get ready," Jesse said, looking at his watch. "I'll see you later."  
  
  
  
"I like this one best," Ally told Jesse, holding up a coat hanger with a blue-green swimsuit on it.  
  
"I hope you are not just saying that because it is the cheapest," Jesse told her, "because you know that you can have what you want, within good reason," he added.  
  
"I don't think that yellow suits me," Ally decided, looking at the swimsuit in her other hand. "Definitely going with the blue one."  
  
"All right then," Jesse said. "You can put the other one back, and I'll go and pay for this one."  
  
Jesse paid for it, and the two of them headed out of the store and back to Jesse's car.  
  
"Ally, I forgot to tell you," Jesse began as he started the engine. "You know I am working until seven-thirty."  
  
"Yeah," Ally wondered what this was leading up to.  
  
"Well, my friend Mark suggested that instead of you going home, you could stay in his office in the hospital," Jesse told her.  
  
"Is that a good thing?" Ally asked him.  
  
"His office is pretty cool," Jesse said. "It's got a lot of books, a computer, and more knick-knacks than the junk shop downtown."  
  
"Sounds pretty cool."  
  
"Don't worry about anything," Jesse continued. "I'll stop and check in on you every so often, and don't feel shy around Mark. He's a great guy."  
  
"You've got a lot of respect for this guy, haven't you," Ally noted.  
  
"I do," Jesse replied. "I've been a doctor at CG for about four or five years, and he's always been there for me. He's like a second father to me."  
  
"Hmm, a second father," Ally pondered. "That would make him my grandfather!"  
  
"Whoa, hold it," Jesse laughed. He was about to continue when he was interrupted.  
  
"If he's like your father, then he must be pretty old," Ally realised.  
  
"He's older than I am, that's for sure," Jesse replied. "But, you'll have to judge for yourself. He's young at heart."  
  
Ally wondered to herself if that counted for anything or not, but she decided to take Jesse's advice and wait before she said anything more.  
  
The car was parked, and Jesse led Ally through the slightly familiar corridors of the hospital. They came to an office, and Jesse knocked on the door.  
  
"Come in," a voice called from inside.  
  
Jesse ushered Ally into the room, and Ally stood still, taking in the surroundings. Jesse was right; the room was full of loads of strange items. At a glance, they would seem like junk, but Ally knew that there was a lot more behind the items, and that each probably had a story to tell.  
  
Then, Ally looked over to the desk, and saw a man sitting behind it. The man looked old, older than Jesse for sure, but not a frail old man. More like a wise man. He had a kind look on his face, and that made Ally feel welcome.  
  
"Hi," Ally said shyly.  
  
"Hi Ally," the man said, getting up from his desk and coming over to her. He held out his hand. "I'm Dr. Sloan, but you can call me Mark."  
  
"Thank you," Ally replied, accepting the handshake.  
  
"Jess, you've got about fifteen minutes in which to eat your lunch," Mark reminded him, tapping his watch. "Are you going to feed yourself?"  
  
"I'm on it," Jesse said, heading for the door. "I'll be back later, Ally. Be good!"  
  
Jesse left, making a beeline for somewhere that served food.  
  
Mark watched him go, chuckled, and then remembered Ally. "Well, what would you like to do?"  
  
"You're asking me?" Ally enquired.  
  
"You'd better believe it," Mark told her.  
  
"Well, this is a hospital," Ally replied. "So, what do you do to have fun around here? Can I use one of those funny machines that the doctor says 'Clear!' and then everyone gets out of the way and the body kinda jumps about ten feet in the air?"  
  
"You mean defibrillators," Mark said, laughing at the description. "And no, you can't use them. They are not there to play with, they are there to save lives."  
  
"Who says I wanted it to play with?" Ally asked him. "I could have wanted to use it to save a life, you know."  
  
"Even if you wanted to save a life, I'm afraid that twelve-year-old girls without four years of med school under their belt would not be permitted to use them."  
  
"That means me, right?" Ally asked.  
  
"Right," Mark replied.  
  
This is going to be a long afternoon, Ally thought to herself. 


	8. In The Circumstances

In the Circumstances  
  
  
  
Mark tried to judge Ally's character, and decided that she was a livewire girl who was in need of frequent entertaining. This was not going to be a walk in the park, he could see that.  
  
"Well, it doesn't matter that you can't use the defibrillator, does it?" Mark enquired. "I mean, I'm sure that there is plenty of other stuff that you could do."  
  
"Like what?" Ally asked shortly.  
  
At that moment, Mark's beeper sounded. He looked at it, and hurriedly said, "sorry Ally, I've gotta go. This is important. I've got a couple of games on there, go knock yourself out." After pointing to the computer, he headed out of the room.  
  
Ally sighed. She was feeling at home again. When she was living with her father, it was always, "Sorry Ally. I've got to go, Ally. It's important, Ally," she muttered, mocking her father's voice.  
  
Why hadn't she been so upset about her father's death? He was never a real father for Ally. From a young age, she had to do a lot of stuff herself, otherwise it was never done. All her Dad did was bring home money. Ally never asked where he got the money from.  
  
At the age of ten, Ally began to rebel. She had never been taught right from wrong, and had little notion of what she could and could not do. That's when she took her father's car.  
  
"Alicia," Skelley had growled when he eventually found her, in a drive-thru restaurant. He had taken her home and sat her on the sofa. "Why did you take my car?"  
  
"I was hungry," Ally said.  
  
"You have two legs. Couldn't you have walked?"  
  
"What's the problem with taking the car?" Ally had asked.  
  
"If you were caught, then they'd take you back here and see me," Skelley had explained. "The cops, Ally! If the cops had caught you, they'd have recognised me and put me in jail!"  
  
Ally had a hard time trying to work out what was right and what was wrong, but from being at school, she had learnt enough by the time she got to Jesse's house.  
  
The girl ambled over to the computer. She found a card game and set her mind to work.  
  
It was not long before he mind wandered away from the game, and she began to wonder about something. She remembered the gash in her father's head. Nasty, that was. But, she remembered that it was on the top of his head. Right on the top.  
  
At first, Ally assumed that he had caught his head on the counter when he fell, but he could not have hit his head and fallen into the position that she had found him in.  
  
She also wondered if she saw any sign of blood on the counter. She didn't remember any. Ally wished that she could go back to her apartment, but it was a long way away, and also Pasco and his men might be on the lookout for her.  
  
"Wait a minute!" Ally exclaimed. A thought had struck her. What if Frankie Pasco had killed Skelley? What if they just made it look like a suicide?  
  
Ally shook her head in order to start thinking rationally. She decided against this theory, knowing that Frankie Pasco's main objective would be to shoot them point blank and lay low. If he killed Skelley, then that would mean writing a suicide note, and actually finding out a load of things to put into the note, such as where Jesse lived, where he worked, and they would have to have known that she took his car when she was two years younger.  
  
But the theory that Skelley's death was not a suicide did not leave the girl's mind. She considered that it could be someone else. "That would make sense, actually," she murmured. "If I were someone else, I'd make him or her write a suicide note and include one or two people to suspect."  
  
"That's the first sign of madness, you know," Mark said, entering the room. "Talking to yourself, that is."  
  
"I bet you do it all the time," Ally replied. "I mean, it's the only way to get a decent conversation sometimes."  
  
"That's true," Mark laughed. "And yes, I do talk to myself at times. Funnily enough, I tend to talk to myself about what you appear to be talking about."  
  
"What's that, then?" Ally asked.  
  
"Homicide investigations," Mark told her.  
  
"What makes you think I was talking about that?" Ally asked him.  
  
"Because, the last sentence is something that I would probably say to myself."  
  
Ally's mind thought fast. "But, you're the doctor, right?"  
  
"Right," Mark said, wondering where she was going with the conversation.  
  
"Jesse said that he had three friends, two friends who are doctors and one who is a policeman."  
  
"I am a doctor-friend," Mark told her. "But, Jesse probably did not mentioned that I am also a consultant with the police department."  
  
"No, he definitely did not mention that," Ally said. "If he did, then I'd have been this confused earlier."  
  
Mark laughed. "Don't worry," he told her. "Once you see all three of us together tomorrow, everything will fit."  
  
"Do you mind Jesse taking care of me like this?" Ally blurted out.  
  
"Mind?" Mark asked, feeling that the question was rather random. "I didn't have a lot of say in the matter, because by the time he told me you'd already been living with him for about a month. But, why should I mind? If he wants to look after you, that's his decision, and no one else's."  
  
"What would you do in his position?" Ally persisted the subject.  
  
"I would have probably done the same thing as he did," Mark admitted.  
  
"Really? Even in my circumstances?" Ally asked in surprise.  
  
"What circumstances?"  
  
"How much has Jesse told you?"  
  
"How much more is there to the story?"  
  
"He hasn't told you everything, I'm assuming."  
  
"He said that there were other things that he was going to tell the three of us tomorrow, I'm guessing that the circumstances are the parts of the story that he left out."  
  
"He'll tell you in his own time," Ally told him, and left it at that.  
  
Mark nodded, knowing in time he would know the whole story. 


	9. You Won't Regret This

You Won't Regret This  
  
  
  
"So, what's this girl like?" Steve asked as he dried a glass with a dishcloth.  
  
"She needs all the help that she can get, and Jesse is just the beginning," Mark told Steve.  
  
"Pardon?" Steve asked, wondering what cryptic message his father was telling him now. "What does that mean?"  
  
"It means that this kid has been through something that no one wants to go through at any age, and I think she's finally being pulled out of it."  
  
"Like what?"  
  
"I'm not sure, but something has been going on, to do with her father, and now that she is living with Jesse I think she has left all that behind now."  
  
"Wrong," Jesse called into the kitchen.  
  
"How did you get in?" Steve asked.  
  
"Through the door," Jesse replied sarcastically. "Ally was desperate for the bathroom, so she ran in here and has hopefully found it."  
  
"Now that we have established how and why Jesse got in here," Mark began, "can you tell us why you said 'wrong' just now?"  
  
"Because it is not the end of what Ally has been through in the past," Jesse told them. "It's more like the beginning."  
  
"That's bad?" Steve asked, not really having any idea of what was going on.  
  
"That's bad alright," Jesse told him.  
  
"I think you had better tell us everything, right from the beginning," Mark decided.  
  
"Not with Ally in the room, and not without Amanda," Jesse said, laying down his terms.  
  
"Agreed," Mark said.  
  
Ally walked into the kitchen at that moment. "Hey Ally, find the bathroom okay?" Jesse asked.  
  
"Yeah, just fine," Ally replied, seeing the new face.  
  
"Steve," Jesse began the introductions, "this is Ally, and Ally, meet Steve, the friend who is the cop."  
  
Ally nodded shyly. "Nice to meet you, Ally," Steve said.  
  
"Ditto," Ally replied. She turned to Mark. "This is a great place, Dr. Sloan."  
  
"Glad you like the house," Mark replied.  
  
"I don't think the word 'house' covers it. I think a better word would be 'palace.'"  
  
Mark, Steve and Jesse were still chuckling when the doorbell sounded. "Probably Amanda," Steve told them, heading to answer the door.  
  
Meanwhile, Ally had gone to the window. "That's the ocean, right?" she asked, pointing to the tumbling waves.  
  
Jesse came up behind her. "Yeah, it is," he said. "It's great, isn't it?"  
  
"Too right it's great," Ally agreed. "Is it okay to swim in?"  
  
"The ocean was made for swimming in," Jesse chuckled. "You know how to swim, right?"  
  
"I had some lessons at school," Ally said. "Not loads though."  
  
"By the end of the summer, I'll have you swimming like a dolphin," Jesse promised her. "We'll wait before we do that, though. Mark appears to have lunch ready."  
  
Ally turned around at that moment, and came face to face with a new person, that belonging to a woman.  
  
"Hi Ally," the woman spoke to her. "I'm Amanda, I'm pleased to meet you."  
  
"Hi," Ally replied. "I'm pleased to meet you, too."  
  
After the lunch prepared by the Sloan men, Jesse took Ally down to the shore. He stayed with her for about half an hour before leaving her to paddle to join the others on the deck. He kept a watchful eye on her from up there.  
  
"So, what do you think?" Jesse asked as he sat down.  
  
"I think she's great," Steve said. "Kinda shy, though."  
  
"Of course she's shy, she's meeting all these new people," Amanda retorted.  
  
"Well, you know what I mean," Steve said.  
  
"Jesse, was she always this quiet? I know you've only looked after her for about six weeks now, but…"  
  
"No, Mark. She started off being loud, proud and with an attitude."  
  
"I think that even in this short space of time, living with you has done her a lot of good, Jesse."  
  
"So, okay Jess," Steve said, cutting in after remembering something from earlier. "Why did you say, 'it's just the beginning?'"  
  
"Now would be a good time to tell you the whole story," Jesse replied. He told them everything, even the deal he made with Skelley. "I haven't even told Ally about that deal yet," he added.  
  
The other three listened intently to the tale. After Jesse had finished, Mark was the first one to speak.  
  
"Jesse, why didn't you tell us all of this earlier?"  
  
"It wasn't the most easiest thing I've ever had to say," Jesse remarked.  
  
Mark nodded, mentally kicking himself for asking such an awkward question.  
  
After that, they did not really know what to say to Jesse. In the end, Steve said, "Jess, I can't believe you did all that! You could have been arrested for some of the stuff out there, like not reporting the death of Blake to someone, and then there's all the stunts that Ally seems to have pulled." He was getting worked up towards the end of his outburst.  
  
Jesse looked like a puppy that had lost its bone, but he kept his cool. "What would you have done, Steve? Would you have let this girl go into some kind of kids home, make her easily traceable, and let her get killed?"  
  
This question made Steve feel uncomfortable. "Well, you know, I guess…"  
  
"Face it, Steve. You would have done the same thing as me."  
  
"I would have not!" As soon as he said it, Steve felt like a child.  
  
"Fine then. If you think it's so illegal, you're a cop. Arrest me."  
  
"Jesse…" Mark began, but he was interrupted.  
  
"I am not going to arrest you, Jesse," Steve said firmly.  
  
"Then you'll help me see Ally through this?"  
  
"I don't know…"  
  
"I'll help you," Amanda cut in. "I can't do much to help, but I will do what I can."  
  
"Me too," Mark added.  
  
All three turned their heads to Steve. He sighed, and rolled his eyes. "If the Captain ever finds out about this…"  
  
"He won't," Jesse told him decisively. "I told you, now that those papers are drawn up, Ally living with me is legal."  
  
"Well, what do you need help with then?"  
  
"The guys who are possibly out looking for her."  
  
"Frankie Pasco?" Steve asked.  
  
"That's the one."  
  
"All right, I'll help you. At least that part is something relating to my job."  
  
"You won't regret this," Jesse said.  
  
"I'll remember that," Steve muttered.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Hi readers! I am still writing this story but I haven't been updating so much lately because my Dad saw my report from school recently and since I've got my GCSEs (those big life-threatening exams) coming up soon he wants me to do better than I am doing right now. Anyway that's another story… Keep reviewing! :) -- Bec 


	10. Wondering Why

Wondering Why  
  
  
  
"Hey Steve," Jesse greeted his friend as he walked into BBQ Bob's.  
  
"Hi," Steve replied. "Not busy tonight?" he asked, glancing at the empty tables.  
  
"Not really," Jesse replied. "Especially since it's past eleven and we are closed."  
  
"Oh?" Steve asked. "Then what are you doing here?"  
  
"Finishing up," Jesse replied. "You know how much mess appears in this place?"  
  
"You always clean it up before I get the chance to see," Steve quipped.  
  
"Perhaps I should leave it for you next time," Jesse mumbled. "Anyway, what brings you here?"  
  
"I came looking for you," Steve said. "This news concerns you."  
  
"Oh?" Jesse asked.  
  
"Remember that plane crash a few weeks back?"  
  
"How could I forget?" Jesse asked.  
  
"Well, at first they thought it was an accident."  
  
"You mean they found something?" Jesse asked in anxiety. "I mean, didn't they do checks and stuff earlier to find out if there was no accident?"  
  
"Whoever did it, they were good."  
  
"What did they do?"  
  
"They drilled a series of tiny holes in the fuel hold."  
  
"That seems a bit simple," Jesse noted.  
  
"We are talking really, really tiny holes here. But there were enough of them to allow the fuel out, and the plane crashed and there was an explosion. Simple, but it worked."  
  
"How did they not find them until now?" Jesse demanded to know.  
  
"Emphasis on tiny holes here, Jess," Steve repeated. "But really, it's a big thing to go over every element of that plane, especially since it was in such bad shape. It just took time."  
  
Jesse nodded, knowing that Steve was right. "All right, Steve. Thanks for telling me. I gotta get home now. I've gotta make sure Ally is still there when I get back."  
  
"Did she run away again?" Steve asked, remembering the part of Jesse's tale involving Ally going to sort everything out for him.  
  
"She got bored at home, so she thought she'd go and visit me at the hospital," Jesse explained. "Thing is, she got lost on the way, and she wandered around for hours before she found her way back to the apartment. She wasn't bothered that she was lost, though."  
  
"Oh right," Steve replied. "You'd better lock her in your house or something."  
  
"Yeah right," Jesse retorted, putting the last of the chairs on the table. "That would work well if there was a fire in my apartment. You've got to be more considerate when it comes to kids, Steve. You'll learn someday."  
  
"Not too soon, I hope," Steve grunted, not really wanting to know just at that moment. "Anyway, you had it lucky. The first three years of kids are the most messy."  
  
Jesse didn't say anything, but he wished that he could have been there for Ally when she was growing up. Maybe he could have given her a better life than Skelley had done.  
  
  
  
Ally sat in the apartment, not really knowing what to do with herself. She had read most of the books that were stacked on the shelves, but she was getting bored of reading all the time. The TV, which was a novelty to begin with, was also beginning to seem dull.  
  
She looked at a clock. "Almost eleven? Where are you, Jesse?" She did not want to go to sleep yet, not before Jesse came home. Ally decided to do some drawing, for a change. She found a notepad and some pencils, and looked for something to draw.  
  
As she was looking for something to draw, Ally's mind wandered to her father. She still decided that his death was suspicious, but there was something else that was niggling at her mind.  
  
Her head ran a film of what happened that fateful day.  
  
Well, she came home with the groceries. She had been out for an hour with the shopping, and nothing strange had happened when she was out.  
  
When she had come home, she remembered firstly seeing that the blinds were closed. Why would Dad do that? It was late afternoon, and the windows of their apartment were facing the east. So, why shut the blinds if the sun wasn't going through the windows? He might shut them if he was going to commit suicide, but Ally doubted it. Her father was spontaneous, and…  
  
If he was so spontaneous, why write a long letter for Ally? Why not just pop the pills and be done with it? And for that matter, why book a plane?  
  
Ally gasped. The plane! She was meant to be on that plane!  
  
It all made some much sense to Ally now. Someone had waited until she had gone out shopping. They went into the apartment, and threatened Skelley. They must have told him to write the note to Ally. The blinds would have been shut to prevent anyone across the way from seeing anything. Then, the murder gave the poison to Skelley, and left before Ally got back.  
  
Once this happened, the murderer would have somehow tampered with the plane, made it to crash. "They wanted me to get on that plane and die," Ally murmured. "Someone really wants me to die."  
  
Ally wondered why. Why her? Her father, yeah. But apparently, someone already got him.  
  
Ally was more upset that her father had been murdered than the fact that he had possibly committed suicide. He had always warned her that he might have had to take his life someday. Maybe that was why he never got too close to Ally, why they never had a heart to heart or anything like that. Maybe he didn't want Ally to get too close to him because he feared that something like that might happen.  
  
"He cared about me," Ally said. She looked down, and saw that she had drawn the images of what happened that day on the paper, without knowing it.  
  
It was all too much for Ally. She fled from her chair, and was running to the door when she tripped on the rug and hit her head on the wall next to the door. This was enough to start her crying. She hugged her knees and buried her head in them.  
  
At that moment, Jesse opened the door, and was surprised when it did not open the full way. When he peered around the door, he saw Ally hunched up against the wall. She was shaking as she sobbed.  
  
Jesse shut the door, and knelt down beside the crying girl. "Hey, Ally?" He asked. "Ally, has something happened?"  
  
"He loved me," Ally gasped, "he really loved me."  
  
"Your father?" Jesse hazarded a guess.  
  
"Someone wants to kill me, and my Dad loved me because he didn't want to get too close to me," Ally spilt everything out at once.  
  
Jesse sighed, and gave her a hug. "Of course he loved y… someone wants to kill you?"  
  
Ally sobbed even harder, and Jesse changed tact. "Come on, it's okay. It's all gonna be okay."  
  
He helped her to her feet, and led her to the couch. "Now, tell me what's up."  
  
Ally sighed, wiping a tear away from her face. "I did some drawings," she said. "Look, I'll show you."  
  
She got up, and brought the notebook to him. "Look, I was going through in my head all the stuff that happened when I found Dad," she said. "And I came to the conclusion that my father was murdered. And then I figured out some stuff."  
  
"Like what?"  
  
"He never got close to me, like father-and-daughter, because he knew that he might have to kill himself one day," Ally snivelled. "I just thought he never loved me. Now you know why I wasn't so affected when I found him seven weeks ago." Ally began a new fit of crying.  
  
Jesse hugged her and rocked her gently, just like a father would do for his daughter, even at twelve years old. "Shh," he soothed. "It's alright, don't worry. Of course your father loved you, and now you know it, everything is all right now. It's okay."  
  
After half an hour of comforting, Ally was asleep in Jesse's arms. He quietly placed her in her bed, and retired to his own, thinking, "I think I just realised how much danger we are in." 


	11. I Wasn't Told?!

I wasn't told?!  
  
  
  
Two days later, Jesse took Ally to the hospital in the morning.  
  
"Right, you remember Amanda?" Jesse asked as they walked into the lobby.  
  
"Yeah," Ally replied. "She works here?"  
  
"She's a top pathologist here," Jesse informed her.  
  
"What's a pathologist?" Ally asked.  
  
"Oh, well," Jesse hesitated. "A pathologist is someone who finds out how people died."  
  
"So we're gonna see how Dad died?"  
  
"Hopefully, if Amanda isn't busy," Jesse replied.  
  
Jesse got to the outside of Amanda's lab, and led her inside. "Okay Ally, I gotta go now. Find me later, when you're done, okay?"  
  
"Sure," Ally replied, waving at him as he left.  
  
Amanda came over to Ally. "Good morning, Ally," she greeted. "How are you?"  
  
"I'm fine thank you, Amanda," Ally replied.  
  
"Good. What can I do for you?" Amanda already knew the answer, because she had received a phone call from Jesse the previous day. She still asked anyway, to make sure Ally was sure.  
  
"I think that maybe my father needs to be checked out again," Ally replied.  
  
"Okay Ally," Amanda said. "I'll just make a couple of calls, and I'll get it checked out."  
  
Almost an hour later, Amanda found Ally talking to a child in the paediatrics unit.  
  
"Ally," Amanda called softly. Ally looked up, and said goodbye to her new friend.  
  
"Did you find anything?"  
  
"Ally, your father was cremated," Amanda told her.  
  
The young girl's eyes became wide. "Cremated? Someone cremated my father and I wasn't told?!"  
  
"I'm sorry, Ally," Amanda sighed.  
  
"Who arranged for that to happen? And why? I mean, there must have been some kind papers and authorisation for it?"  
  
"Apparently, your father had a brother who arranged it," Amanda explained.  
  
"My father never told me about him having a brother," Ally shot back. She softened before saying, "but then again, he never told me about Jesse until he needed to. He could have had any amount of relatives that I never knew about."  
  
Amanda nodded. "Do you want to go and find Jesse now?"  
  
"Yeah," Ally agreed. She bid farewell to Amanda, and set off on her search in the hospital.  
  
Not much later, Ally passed the door that led to Mark's office. She wondered if he would be in there, and if he would know where Jesse was. She decided to try it, and knocked on the door.  
  
"Come in," a call from inside met her ears.  
  
"Ally, hi," Mark greeted, getting up from his desk. "What brings you here? Does Jesse know you're here?"  
  
"He knows that I am in the hospital, but he doesn't know I am standing on this particular bit of carpet in your office."  
  
Mark laughed, and Ally continued. "I'm actually looking for Jesse. Do you know where he is?"  
  
"He's just gone into surgery," Mark told him. "Could be a while before he comes out of it."  
  
"By gone into surgery, you mean he's doing the surgery, and he's not the one that's laying down on the bed with body organs hanging open, right?" Ally asked hopefully.  
  
"Don't worry," Mark replied, chuckling. "He's the one performing the surgery. It was emergency surgery, so it could be a while before he finishes. Would you like to wait here for him?"  
  
"If it's no bother to you, then I'd like to stay here, thank you."  
  
"Of course it's no problem," Mark told her.  
  
Mark showed her to a couch. She sat down, and gazed around the room.  
  
Mark was going to start a tactful conversation. "You enjoying it here in LA?"  
  
"I haven't seen a lot," Ally admitted, "but what I have seen is great. Better than where I used to live."  
  
"Really?" Mark asked.  
  
"Yeah, really."  
  
"Was it the place or the company?"  
  
"Both, I guess. I saw too much of the place and not enough of the company."  
  
Mark understood, and nodded. "Was your father away that much?"  
  
After a pause, Ally said, "I only really noticed it from when I was eight years old and onwards."  
  
"Why was that?"  
  
Ally swallowed. She had never talked about her mother. It was a subject that rarely came up. When it did, she tried to push it away. Maybe now it was time to open up.  
  
"My mom died when I was eight."  
  
Mark's eyes became sensitive and gentle. "What happened?"  
  
This was hard for Ally, and Mark knew it. "In your own time," he gave her confidence.  
  
Ally wasn't ready. She couldn't tell someone who was near enough a stranger to her. The truth was that she couldn't tell anyone.  
  
"If you don't mind, I'd like it if I could tell Jesse first, before I tell anyone else," Ally stammered.  
  
Mark nodded his head. "Okay, I understand. You don't want to talk about your mom, talk about your father."  
  
"What's to talk about?" Ally asked.  
  
"You tell me."  
  
"I don't think he wanted me around." Ally surprised herself as she said the words. She had always thought it, but she had never admitted it out loud.  
  
"What makes you think that?" Mark asked.  
  
"Well, he never really knew I was around. He was never there. He was always out here and there, doing business with someone or other. There was only one time he noticed me."  
  
"When?"  
  
"When I was doing something bad."  
  
"What bad things did you do?" Mark asked her.  
  
"When I was ten, I took his car."  
  
Mark drew an inward breath. "What happened when he found out?"  
  
"He got very angry, and said that the cops would come to our house and get him. He said that he would be taken to jail because the cops didn't like him."  
  
Mark was beginning to take a disliking Ally's father. "Do you know why the police would have taken your father to jail? Had he done something wrong?"  
  
"Dad had doing things wrong down to a fine art," Ally said. "When I was younger, I didn't notice it as much, but he was always conning and buying and selling illegal stuff. He wasn't too bad at it either."  
  
"Did he teach you any of his illegal trades?" Mark asked.  
  
"Little stuff. He taught me to pick a lock at six years old."  
  
Mark decided to revert back to the original conversation. "So, he only noticed you when you were bad. Did that make you do bad stuff a lot?"  
  
"I wanted him to notice me," Ally replied shamefacedly, knowing that Mark knew the answer.  
  
"So, why is it that you don't do bad stuff anymore, now that you are living with Jesse?"  
  
"Well, Jesse notices me all the time, not just when I'm doing bad stuff."  
  
"Jesse is turning out to be a good father," Mark murmured.  
  
"But really, my father did care about me a bit," Ally said proudly. She explained everything that she had told to Jesse, including that she thought her father's death was foul play. Mark listened intently to all of her words.  
  
"It sounds like we've got quite a mystery on our hands here," Mark responded to Ally's story.  
  
"Yep," Ally agreed. At that moment, there was a knock on the door and Jesse walked in.  
  
"I thought I'd find you here," he grinned. "I'll take you home for lunch now."  
  
Ally stood up to leave and Jesse said to Mark, "thanks for looking after her."  
  
"No problem," Mark replied. "All distractions from paperwork are welcome, especially this particular distraction."  
  
Jesse laughed, and he and Ally said goodbye to the wise doctor.  
  
Jesse escorted Ally to the underground parking lot.  
  
"I know why you've got a lot of respect for Mark Sloan," Ally told Jesse. "He is a great person."  
  
Jesse nodded as he unlocked the car. At that moment, Jesse heard a faint beep. "Did you hear that?"  
  
"What?" Ally asked, stepping down a little way from the car to tie her shoe.  
  
"It sounded like a beep, just as I unlocked the car."  
  
Ally looked up, and from her level on the ground she could see a lot of wires running under the car. Her mind raced. "Jesse!"  
  
"What?" Jesse asked, running over to her, thinking she was hurt. Two seconds later, an explosion rocked the parking lot. Ally and Jesse were thrown by the blast, and landed in a crumpled heap a little way from the burning wreck.  
  
"That," Ally wheezed an answer to the question before blackness overtook and she passed out.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Finally, some action, right? More to come! 


	12. Sense of Humour Intact

Sense of Humour Intact  
  
  
  
Mark heard the explosion and jumped so much he dropped the file with notes in it. As he hastily picked up the papers he noticed that panic arose around him.  
  
"Doctor Sloan," one of the nurses called to him. "We've got to evacuate the building. A bomb went off in the underground parking lot."  
  
Only when Mark got outside did he put two and two together. "Jesse and Ally… underground lot… just leaving… possibility of Ally's father being murdered… possibility of Ally being a target… bigger possibility of Jesse and Ally being in trouble!" Mark's thought processes came to one conclusion, and he did not like it.  
  
Mark called Steve on his cellphone. "Steve, are you there?"  
  
"Hey Dad, are you okay? I'm on my way to the hospital, the captain told me that a fire or something had been reported. Are you out okay?"  
  
"I'm fine," Mark said. "I can see Amanda, too. But Jesse and Ally are unaccounted for, and I've got a bad feeling that they are in the underground lot."  
  
"Are you sure?" Steve asked, knowing how rarely his father was wrong.  
  
"They went down to the lot not five minutes before the bomb went off," Mark confirmed Steve's fears.  
  
"I'll be there in a minute, and no more," Steve promised. Mark let Steve to his driving, and walked over to Amanda.  
  
"How are you holding up?" Mark asked.  
  
"I'm fine," Amanda said, standing with her arms crossed. "Where are Jesse and Ally?"  
  
Mark didn't lie to her. "I don't know. They may still be in there." He saw Amanda's eyes grow wide. "I have a suspicion that the bomb was meant for them."  
  
Amanda put her hands to cover her mouth. "They can't… someone must have… no!"  
  
"It's okay, don't worry," Mark comforted Amanda. "Jesse and Ally are two of the strongest characters I know. They'll get out."  
  
Amanda nodded, fearing the worst.  
  
  
  
Jesse struggled to open his eyes. He took in a breath, and let out a choking breath. He looked around, but everything seemed to be a dense grey mist. He choked again.  
  
Some of the fog cleared, and Jesse could pick out a flicker of yellow- orange. Fire! Jesse's mind raced. He remembered some things. Right before the explosion, right before everything went black, he turned his back on the car. Man, his back was killing him.  
  
He turned his back because, why was it? Oh yeah, he went to see Ally, because she sounded like she was hurt. Ally! Where was Ally?  
  
Jesse got onto his hands and knees, and as he did, he kicked something soft. "Ally?" he asked, choking on the words. "Ally, is that you?"  
  
"Hmm?" Came a faint murmur.  
  
"Ally?" Jesse called louder, making a 180-degree turn. His hands ran along the cold stone floor until they came to a soft material, Ally's shirt.  
  
"Come on, Ally," Jesse said, checking for a pulse. It was there, and Jesse mentally sighed with relief.  
  
"Ally, can you hear me?" Jesse yelled.  
  
"Jesse?" Ally asked.  
  
"Ally, are you okay?" Jesse asked.  
  
"Ooh yeah, doing pretty well having just been inches from being blown to pieces, thank you. How are you this fine day?" Ally choked at the end of her outburst.  
  
"Sense of humour intact," Jesse noted. "But now is no time to be sarcastic. It isn't over yet, there is still the problem of getting out of here."  
  
Ally coughed. "How about getting out of the smoke first."  
  
Jesse stood up and winced. "My back is killing me."  
  
"I can't see your back. It's too smoky here."  
  
"All right, where is it not smoky?" Jesse and Ally fumbled their way to the other side of the lot, where it was slightly less grey.  
  
"Where is the exit, Jesse? It's not safe down here."  
  
"Over this way," Jesse said, leading the way through the cloud. They found the doors, and were met by firemen.  
  
"Anymore in here?" One called.  
  
"Couldn't see any," Jesse said. He pointed to where the flames were, and the fire fighters called their thanks back as Jesse and Ally were led away.  
  
"Hey, you're back!" Ally exclaimed, looking  
  
"Yeah, it hurts," Jesse mumbled.  
  
"Well it ought to! Look at it!"  
  
"Not actually capable of looking at my own back, you know."  
  
"Its all red, and some bits look burnt. I mean, your shirt has gone."  
  
"What?"  
  
"There's a bit hole where your shirt used to be. Well, some bits of it are still there. You must have been pretty close when that bomb went off."  
  
The thought of this made Jesse feel light-headed.  
  
"You don't look so good," Ally noted.  
  
"You think?" Jesse asked sarcastically.  
  
They were outside now, with all of the other doctors and nurses. "Jesse!" Mark exclaimed, running over with Steve and Amanda. "Are you all right?"  
  
"Do I look it?" Jesse mumbled, swaying slightly.  
  
"Come on," Steve said. "I think Dad ought to check you out." He lightly placed his hand on Jesse's shoulder, and Jesse let out a deafening scream.  
  
"Don't touch his back," Ally warned him, "it's like a mega sunburn that he's got there."  
  
"Let me take a look," Mark said. Jesse turned around, and everyone winced at the sight that met their eyes.  
  
"Jess, were you on fire or something?" Steve asked.  
  
"No, I stood a bit too close when the thing went off, I think," Jesse said.  
  
Amanda nodded. "That would explain things."  
  
"Come on, they are letting people into this wing of the hospital, people that need to be treated urgently. That would mean you two," Mark added.  
  
"What's wrong with me?" Ally asked, choking slightly.  
  
"You were just in a smoke-filled parking lot, and you are coughing and choking, so I'd say that smoke inhalation is a place to start. Then there's the bump on the side of your head, so there I'd say a concussion. And then…"  
  
"All right, all right, I get the picture," Ally giggled. "I'll go quietly."  
  
"That's more like it," Mark chuckled, showing them the way.  
  
Amanda took Jesse and Ally into the room, but Mark hung back with Steve.  
  
"Dad, these two are in serious trouble."  
  
"I know," Mark replied. "Someone is out to get them, and they've sent a powerful message to confirm that. We need to get that someone before they succeed!"  
  
"It's gotta be that Frankie Pasco guy," Steve said. "I did a bit of reading up on him, and bombs are his trademark. All I gotta do is find him."  
  
"It's too easy," Mark said. "I have a feeling that Pasco is not the guy we are looking for. It's going to take longer than we thought." 


	13. Not Just Dead

Not Just Dead  
  
  
  
"Ow," Jesse complained again for the fiftieth time that day, it seemed. He had found it increasingly uncomfortable to lay constantly on his front, but then remembered why he had to lay on his front when he tried to lay on his back. And that was as if hospital beds weren't uncomfortable enough already!  
  
"Good afternoon," Mark chirped as he walked into Jesse's room. "How are you, Jesse?"  
  
"Uncomfortable," Jesse grunted.  
  
"Well, you're free to go home now," Mark told him. "My home," he added.  
  
"Mark, you don't have to…" Jesse began, but he was cut off.  
  
"Don't even go there," Mark said. "Someone obviously knows that you and Ally are out there, and it is not safe for you two."  
  
"But…"  
  
"I'd have thought that the remains of your car would have been a tell-tale sign that someone means business," Mark butted in.  
  
"Oh yeah, how is my car?" Jesse asked sarcastically.  
  
"Which piece of it?" Mark joked.  
  
"That bad?" Jesse asked sorrowfully.  
  
"That bad," Mark replied. "Luckily, I have a car, and I am going to take you home in it."  
  
"When do I get to go back to work?" Jesse asked.  
  
"Not for another week yet, at least," Mark told him firmly. "That back of yours is pretty burnt and blistered."  
  
"You forgot to mention sore," Jesse added. "But if I can't go back to work, someone ought to be looking after my patients. I mean, Mr Durham is pretty bad after that heart attack, and Mrs Griggs…"  
  
"Your patients are being take care off," Mark assured him as they left the hospital. "You're almost as bad at being a patient as I am!"  
  
"No one could steal that reputation away from you, except maybe Steve," Jesse said. "Ow!"  
  
"I wouldn't lean back if I were you," Mark said, seeing Jesse trying to sit in the passenger seat.  
  
"Ha, ha," Jesse pretended to laugh as he lent heavily on the dashboard.  
  
  
  
At the Beach House, Steve was looking after Ally until the other two came back. He had given the girl a snack to eat, and he was sitting around idly. Ally sat watching the ocean.  
  
"Ally," Steve began, hoping to clear something up. "When the bomb went off a couple of days back, I noticed something."  
  
"What was that?"  
  
"You didn't seem afraid. You see," he continued. "I haven't met a lot of twelve-year-old kids that wouldn't have been afraid of a bomb like that. You took it really well."  
  
"Let me ask you something, Lieutenant Sloan. How many twelve-year-old kids have you met that are remotely like me?"  
  
"Well, not that many," Steve admitted.  
  
"How are they remotely like me? I mean, for example, have they grown up with my kind of background?"  
  
"They haven't."  
  
"How are these few people like me then?"  
  
"The only way that they are like you is that they've got guts. Other than that, you're one of a kind."  
  
"Why do you think that is?"  
  
"Like you said earlier, your background," Steve told her.  
  
"Is that all?"  
  
"A strong character."  
  
"Getting closer. You give up. The correct answer is, I've been through enough before to know that being afraid does absolutely nothing except create a bit of adrenaline, and I've got enough of that as it is."  
  
"What have you been through before?" Steve asked her.  
  
"Loads of stuff," Ally said shortly.  
  
"Like?" Steve persisted.  
  
"Like, see all these scars on my leg?" Ally lifted up her pants leg to just above her knee. "And these ones all along my right shoulder?" Ally showed him.  
  
Steve winced as Ally continued.  
  
"You, being a cop, would know a gunshot scar when you see one."  
  
Steve nodded. "Would they be on separate occasions?"  
  
"You're a good cop," Ally noted. "The ones on my shoulders I got when I was seven. Some jerks thought it would be great to come looking for my Dad and scare the heck out of me in the process. I mean, I was only seven at the time," she added. "That was in our old apartment. We moved six miles east, and for a year, they didn't find us."  
  
"Carry on," Steve said.  
  
"Is that an order?" Ally asked.  
  
"No, more like a request," Steve told her.  
  
At that moment, Mark and Jesse came into the house. Perfect timing, Ally thought to herself.  
  
"Hi," Jesse said, greeting Ally first. "Have you been behaving for Steve?"  
  
"Well, all is well apart from that little crater in the kitchen floor," Ally said, trying to be serious. When Jesse glanced over to the kitchen, Ally laughed and said, "just kidding, Jesse! The house is still in one piece."  
  
"It had better be." As Mark ushered Ally into the kitchen to help with lunch, Jesse turned to Steve.  
  
"Has she been okay? Has she said anything that might help?"  
  
"She's been great, and she was talking about two shootings she was involved in. That's why she wasn't scared of the bomb, because she's used to all that danger and has learnt not to be scared," Steve added. "Although, she must have been scared, because I've been in so many dangerous situations that I've lost count, and I still get scared from time to time. I think maybe she was exaggerating about that part."  
  
Jesse nodded. He was about to say something, but the phone rang. "I'll get it," Steve called. "Make yourself comfortable," Steve said, heading toward the study.  
  
"Sure," Jesse muttered. "Make myself comfortable? I've forgotten what comfortable feels like." He lay on the couch, on his front, and slowly drifted into a light sleep.  
  
  
  
In the kitchen, Ally was preparing a salad whilst Mark tended to the spaghetti and Bolognese sauce.  
  
"It was lucky that you saw the wiring under Jesse's car when you did," Mark told her. "Heck knows what would have happened if you hadn't reacted that quickly."  
  
"I don't want to think about it," Ally told him. "No doubt it would have been messy."  
  
Mark nodded, grinning slightly at the use of the word 'messy.' Ally continued, "I was lucky. I'm not the one with red strips going down my back."  
  
"That's true," Mark said.  
  
At that moment, Steve came rushing in. "Dad!"  
  
"Steve? Where's the fire?"  
  
"Listen, Dad," Steve urged. "Frankie Pasco has found dead!"  
  
Ally became a paler shade in her face. "He's dead?"  
  
"Not just dead," Steve continued. "He was murdered."  
  
Two jaws dropped to the floor, and Jesse cried out in pain as he rolled off the couch in disbelief. 


	14. Makes Sense

Makes Sense  
  
  
  
"C'mon, Steve, you've gotta be kidding," Jesse said. He was on the floor, lacking the energy to get up.  
  
"Jess, did you land on back?" Mark asked, having a rough idea of how much it would have hurt if he did.  
  
"No," Jesse said. "I landed on my side, but my back still really hurts."  
  
Steve and Mark walked over to where he lay, and helped him to his feet. "Thanks guys," he said sheepishly.  
  
"Next time you drop a bombshell, Steve," Mark sighed, "strap him to the couch first," he pointed to Jesse.  
  
"Back to Frankie Pasco being dead, probably murdered," Ally reminded them.  
  
"Yeah," Steve said. "The mailman said he hadn't been picking up his mail for a couple of days, so he knocked on the door. No one answered, so he picked the lock."  
  
"As you do," Mark remarked. "I didn't know you had to be able to pick locks to be a mailman these days."  
  
"He claims he did it in the interest of Pasco's health," Steve said. "Anyway, that's not the point. This guy found Pasco on the floor with a gun in his hand."  
  
"Reverse, Lieutenant," Ally halted him. "You said murder. That picture you just drew us looks like a suicide."  
  
"There were a lot of things that didn't add up to make it a suicide, but they made it a murder."  
  
"Like what?" Jesse asked.  
  
"For example, the angle that the bullet went in. If you think about it, the bullet would be virtually horizontal as it enters the side of your head. This bullet was pointing downwards, at a big angle."  
  
"How tall was Pasco?" Mark asked.  
  
"From what they told me over the phone, a bit taller than Jesse," Steve said.  
  
"So the murderer would have been fairly tall, but not massive," Mark concluded. "Anything else?"  
  
"Not for the minute, but when I go to the crime scene, I'll know a lot more. Want to join me?"  
  
"I thought you'd never ask."  
  
Ally was going to open her mouth to ask to join, but she kept it shut. If she aroused suspicion that she wanted to go, they would be watching her like hawks.  
  
"Are you going now?" Jesse asked.  
  
"We're going to be eating this lunch, which is probably burning right now, and then we'll go. And Jesse, before you ask, you are definitely not coming with us," Mark said firmly.  
  
"Like I was planning on going anywhere," Jesse said. "It hurts to move."  
  
"That's why you are having a week off to rest," Mark informed him.  
  
After lunch, Mark and Steve left for the crime scene, which was located a few miles north of LA.  
  
"So, what do you want to do?" Jesse asked.  
  
"Well, get yourself comfortable on the couch, I'll get you a drink, and I'll find a film to watch," Ally said. Jesse propped himself up on the sofa, and Ally handed him a drink.  
  
"There's some videos in my bag," Ally said. "I'll look through them. Here's the remote, channel-flick or something."  
  
Jesse did so for about five minutes, and then he lightly dozed off. Twenty minutes later, at just gone two o'clock, his eyes flicked open.  
  
"Hey, Ally?" he called unsteadily. Jesse sat up and waited for a reply. "Ally? Al, are you there?" He got up, and winced at the pain in his back. "This is what a really bad sunburn feels like," he muttered to himself.  
  
He stumbled around the house, and looked in every room before finding no one there. He reached a nearby phone and punched in the numbers for Mark's cellphone.  
  
"Mark?" Jesse stuttered, anxiety showing in his voice.  
  
"Jess? What's up?"  
  
"Ally's gone," Jesse tried to remain calm as he relayed the short story to Mark. "I could see it in her eyes before she left, she was up to something. I think she's probably going where you both are."  
  
"Okay Jess, don't panic," Mark said. "If we see her, we'll tell you directly. If not, I'll call someone, maybe Amanda or Alex, and get them to start looking."  
  
"I could…"  
  
"You, my friend, are going to lay on that couch and do practically nothing else, understood?"  
  
"By practically you mean…"  
  
"Use your common sense for that one," Mark chuckled. "But seriously, its doctors orders."  
  
"All right, all right," Jesse mumbled. He put the phone down, and waited impatiently for news.  
  
  
  
Steve and Mark arrived at the scene, and were greeted by a team of officers. "There's no one upstairs right now," one of the policemen said to them. "It's all yours. We're investigating the surrounding area right now."  
  
Steve nodded, and escorted his father to the apartment. They came to the door, and it was unlocked. "Do they usually leave these places unlocked?" Mark asked, stepping between the crime scene tape, which littered the corridor.  
  
Steve merely grunted, and stepped into the apartment. The moment he did so, he heard a rustling noise. He pulled his gun from his holster, and motioned for his father to step back.  
  
"Police!" Steve barked to the noise. "Come out with your hands up!"  
  
The rustling stopped, and footsteps padded towards them. "Ally!" Mark gasped.  
  
"Oh, hi, you took your time," Ally remarked. She turned around and walked back into the bedroom.  
  
Steve looked at his gun and considered firing a warning shot to grab her attention, but Mark saw his son's thought processes and stepped between them. "I'll handle this," he signalled.  
  
Mark walked after Ally into the bedroom, and crouched down beside where she was sitting. He was about to start lecturing her, but he noticed her odd behaviour. "What are you doing?"  
  
"See these?" Ally held up some ripped and torn shreds of paper.  
  
"What about them."  
  
"This is the mail from the three days before Pasco was killed."  
  
"So?"  
  
"Well, think about it. There are bills and stuff here, and a couple from three days before the guy was found. They were all in one mass, not separately, in this trashcan. And, they were all ripped in the same places."  
  
"Carry on," Mark said, liking the way that Ally was thinking.  
  
"Well, how about this? The murderer kills Pasco, and then comes back a few days later to pick up the bills to make it seem that he was killed later then his actual time of death."  
  
"But, why do that?" Mark asked.  
  
"Obviously to go to CG and try and blow Jesse and me up," Ally told him.  
  
It started to make sense to Mark. Someone was out to get Ally. The murderer would kill Skelley, and send Ally off on an airplane to live with someone. But, they would rig the plane so that it would crash on the way.  
  
But, they find out that Ally never got on the plane, so they track her down and find where she lives. So, destroy Ally, and then place the blame on Pasco, who had a pretend motive anyway. Then, make out that Pasco killed himself. This plan goes well until Ally survives.  
  
"It makes sense," Mark murmured. "Ally, you are in a lot of danger, and so is Jesse. We have got to find out who did this before they succeed, and you may be able to tell us who would want revenge against you."  
  
"I didn't just take up a career as a psychic, Mark," Ally told him. Mark inwardly rejoiced at the fact that Ally called him by his first name. "How can I tell you?"  
  
"I think there has to be a link between this murderer and an event that happened in your past," Mark insisted. "Oh, I've got to call Jesse to tell him that you are okay." Ally got up to leave, but Mark pulled her back. "Don't go yet," he whispered. "I came in here to give you a good talking to for running off like that, and I'd better do that before Steve finds I haven't."  
  
"Ah, he won't care," Ally brushed the idea aside with her hand.  
  
"You think?" Mark snorted. "This is his investigation, and if the Captain of the station sees that a twelve-year-old girl found her way into it, Steve will be in deep trouble."  
  
Ally muttered something under her breath but Mark chose to ignore it. "Hey, Jesse?" Mark asked as someone answered the phone.  
  
"Mark? Have you found her?"  
  
"She's here with me, and she's safe," Mark told him.  
  
"She won't be safe by the time I get my hands around her neck," Jesse growled.  
  
"Jesse," Mark warned. "Learn to be a good parent. That means not throttling the child each time they do something wrong." Ally smirked as she heard this part of the conversation.  
  
"All right, all right," Jesse muttered. "But she is still getting told off when she gets back home."  
  
"I wouldn't be so hasty, Jess," Mark advised him. "Ally here has been investigating and has found some great evidence."  
  
"Really?"  
  
"Really," Mark confirmed. "Listen, I've got to go now. Ally will be back soon, escorted by yours truly. And remember, don't go anywhere. The skin on your back could split with too much movement, and that would be very messy."  
  
"Consider me stationary," Jesse told him.  
  
Mark put the phone down, and turned to Ally. He had lost the will to tell her off. "Just pretend I told you off," he sighed. Ally hung her head for effect.  
  
Mark walked into the room where Steve was seeing the body being taken away. "Find anything?" Steve asked.  
  
"We did," Mark said. He explained about the letters in the trashcan, and he gave details about the murderer's possible plan.  
  
"And you figured all of this out?" Steve asked, pointing to Ally.  
  
"Steve," Mark gave a warning to his son.  
  
Steve rolled his eyes. "All right." He decided to change the subject. "One of the officers found a suicide note a few blocks away, in a trash can."  
  
Marks eyebrows shot up. "If this guy was murdered, and the murderer figured out that Ally wasn't dead, then why not totally destroy the note, not just throw it away?"  
  
"I'm guessing that this guy is getting careless and is beginning to panic. I mean, he's had at least two chances to kill Ally and they've both failed. I'm guessing his plan is starting to fall apart."  
  
Mark nodded. "All right, I think that's enough for one day. Are you done here, Steve?"  
  
"Yep," Steve told him. "Nothing more to do here, for the moment. By the way Ally, that's the last investigation you attend without my permission."  
  
"But…"  
  
"No buts," Steve replied.  
  
"You wouldn't make a very good Dad," Ally told Steve. "You wouldn't let your kids have much fun." She walked off and Steve turned to Mark.  
  
"I wouldn't take it personally," Mark said. "Her idea of a father figure is someone who lets her do whatever she wants."  
  
"But Jesse hasn't done that, has he? I mean, she behaves for him."  
  
"Sure he does," Mark drawled. "That's why she ran away from the house not too long ago. Is that behaving?"  
  
"Probably not," Steve chuckled. 


	15. Drive

Drive  
  
  
  
"Hi, Amanda," Steve greeted as he entered the pathology lab. "Anything interesting?"  
  
"Oh yeah, dead bodies are the most fascinating things in the world. They are so lively," Amanda said sarcastically. "But there is some great evidence here. Zero gun residue on the hands of the corpse."  
  
"None?" Steve asked.  
  
"None," Amanda confirmed. "It's a murder for sure, Steve. This guy did not kill himself."  
  
"Great, so that's two murders, and two attempted murders," Steve said.  
  
"If your father's right Steve, it's a lot more than two murders," Amanda reminded him.  
  
"My God, the plane! I've got a lot of work here," Steve sighed. "I've got a lot of work with no suspects, no known motive and I'm stumped."  
  
  
  
At the Beach House, Jesse and Ally were sitting on the deck enjoying lunch.  
  
"Do you think Mark and Steve would let us live here forever?" Ally asked hopefully.  
  
"I doubt it," Jesse laughed. "It would be nice, but this is a very temporary thing."  
  
"Okay," Ally replied.  
  
"Are you ready yet?" Jesse asked her, launching straight into the new conversation.  
  
"Ready for what?"  
  
"Ready to tell me about your mom," Jesse said.  
  
Ally's eyes were wide. Was she ready? Then she realised that the longer she put it off, the harder it would be to tell the story.  
  
"I'm ready," Ally sighed. She took a deep breath and began.  
  
"First off, my mom wasn't really my real mom. She became my step mom when I was two, but it still called her my mom, because she actually adopted me."  
  
"I was eight at the time when she... you know. Mom and myself were watching TV together, and Dad was in the bedroom, doing business with someone. Well, he came out the room and was going to talk to us when suddenly these three guys banged the door down and they had these three big guns and they kept shooting at us. They did that for about ten seconds and then they left."  
  
"Dad was fine, he ducked behind the couch. I had a couple of shots in my leg, but Mom, she got all those motherly instincts and turned out to be a human shield for me. She took two to the head and died." Ally had run out of steam. She had never told anyone what had happened that day, and after four years of keeping it to herself, she broke down.  
  
"Hey," Jesse said softly, manoeuvring to envelope Ally into a hug, ignoring the pain in his back. "It's okay, it's okay. That must have been hard for you."  
  
"I'm all right," Ally said, looking up.  
  
At that moment, Jesse remembered something. "I just remembered," he told her. "It must have been at about that time that your father and I made a deal."  
  
"I was going to ask you about that…" Jesse held his hand up to stop her.  
  
"He told me these exact words. 'Eric wants to get even about Olivia's death. If anything happens to me, take care of Ally for me.' Who was Eric?"  
  
"My Mom's, that's Olivia, her brother," Ally said. "He never got over Mom's death, they were so close to each other. Heck, don't tell me Uncle Eric caused all this!"  
  
"If he did, why would he want to get you?" Jesse asked.  
  
"Well, Mom died because of my father and me. He'd kill my father, because of his business, and me, because Mom gave her life for me. She died for me." Ally looked to the ocean for comfort, and noticed a figure on the beach. Oh boy, she thought.  
  
"Don't make it look suspicious," she told Jesse casually, "but go inside and shut the doors."  
  
"I'll ask why when I get inside," Jesse said, leaving his chair.  
  
Once inside, Ally led Jesse to the front of the house. "Do you want to drive or shall I? Maybe I should, your back is pretty bad."  
  
"Drive?"  
  
"There was a guy on the beach that was doing a great impression of Uncle Eric," Ally said. "I'm guessing that he knows where we live. Now would be a great time to make an exit."  
  
"Yeah, but I'll drive," Jesse told her. "You don't know LA like I do."  
  
"Do you think that would be a problem for me?" Ally asked as she buckled her seatbelt in the passenger side.  
  
Jesse started the car, and sped away from the driveway.  
  
"Mark will probably not be happy that I took his car," Jesse murmured as he took a route on a side street.  
  
"You've got to live on the edge, Jesse," Ally told him. "Besides, this is an emergency. He wouldn't want us to get hurt, would he? Hey, where are you driving to?"  
  
"Anywhere you'd care to recommend?" Jesse asked.  
  
"How about you take a highway somewhere," Ally told him. "Gives you the advantage of speed."  
  
So Jesse took the highway out of LA, and then turned all the way back.  
  
"This way, when he figures out that we took the highway, we'll be on our way back into town," Ally said.  
  
Jesse glanced in front of him. Something was not right about what he was seeing. There was one car to his side, and the highway beyond him was clear except for one car in front. This car, instead of going away, looked like it was getting closer to them.  
  
"Oh my God," Jesse muttered under his breath.  
  
  
  
Two hours had passed since the lunch on the deck. Mark had called the house several times, and was worried about them. He persuaded Amanda to take them back to the house, and they were surprised to find that Mark's car was gone.  
  
"They wouldn't leave like that without calling first, would they?" Amanda asked.  
  
"Only if it were an emergency," Mark said. "The best way to do this is to go back to the hospital and call Steve to let him know that my car has gone."  
  
Amanda and Mark arrived back at the hospital, and it was only fifteen minutes later that Mark received a call from Steve.  
  
"Steve, have you found my car?" Mark asked.  
  
"Yeah," Steve sighed.  
  
"Is it in one piece?" Mark asked.  
  
"Mostly," Steve said.  
  
"What do you mean by mostly?"  
  
"There's a dent with a two foot diameter on the right side, on the engine part, and no windscreen left. That's easily repairable, though."  
  
"Okay," Mark said. "Did you find Jesse and Ally? Can I have a word with them?"  
  
"They're on their way to the hospital, I gotta go Dad, low battery," Steve's voice slowly faded out. Mark replaced the receiver and turned around to see a nurse hurrying towards him.  
  
"Two car crash victims on their way in," the nurse told him. "Doctor Travis is one of them, and a young girl, about eleven years old."  
  
Mark wasn't about to correct the nurse of Ally's age, instead he ran towards the ER entrance. In rolled Ally on a stretcher. She was conscious, and if looks could kill then the doctor standing above her would have turned to dust.  
  
"One possible broken right radius," the doctor told him. "Mild concussion."  
  
"First things first," Mark said. "Get the arm into X-ray, and then come back to me with the results. Hi Ally, you'll be fine in no time, I promise you."  
  
Ally was wheeled away, and then an unconscious Jesse was rolled in.  
  
"Bad concussion, but otherwise just cuts and bruises to the head."  
  
Mark looked at the pained look on Jesse's face, and wondered what he had done to deserve everything that was being thrown at him. 


	16. A Plan

A Plan  
  
  
  
"Mark, I'm fine," Jesse said. "I've had it up to here with being a patient in the hospital. Let me out of here!"  
  
"Jesse, you sound like a lunatic! Fine, if you are well enough to argue, you may as well go home."  
  
"Not without me," Steve said, walking into the examining room. "How's the head?"  
  
"How does it look?"  
  
"Like it hit the windscreen of a car," Steve replied.  
  
"There you go then," Jesse said. "And why do I have to home with you?"  
  
"Because you and Ally are being hunted by a murderer, and he happens to know that you live in the Beach House."  
  
"That puts you guys in danger, too," Jesse sighed. "I'm sorry…"  
  
"You don't need to be sorry," Mark told him. "We should be sorry that we didn't give you enough protection."  
  
"Protection begins now," Steve told him.  
  
At that moment, Amanda brought Ally into the room. "How cool is this?"  
  
"Very cool, a broken arm," Jesse said, sore from the pain in his head.  
  
"No, the cast! Neon green, it glows in the dark!"  
  
"You mean I've got a radio-active cast in the room when I try and go to sleep at night?" Jesse asked in dismay.  
  
"Ever tried shutting your eyes?" Ally asked him sarcastically.  
  
"Enough," Mark said. "Steve, I think we need to borrow your car."  
  
"Thought you might," Steve said. "I'll drop you at home, but I'm going back to the station. You said you had a name for the guy who was chasing you?"  
  
"Yeah, my oh-so-nice Uncle Eric," Ally rolled her eyes. "He was always mean to me. I always got socks for Christmases and Birthdays."  
  
"Does Uncle Eric have a surname?"  
  
"Birch."  
  
"Right, we'll track this guy down and have him before you can say mass murderer." Steve left the room first, and the others followed.  
  
"He's got a real one-track mind, that Steve guy," Ally whispered to Mark as they left.  
  
  
  
It was as Amanda came into the house for breakfast that Mark got the idea. She was carrying a black sack of something.  
  
"You know, Amanda, we left the trash outside for a reason," Steve said, chewing on a piece of toast.  
  
"This isn't garbage, these are some of the toys for the children's ward that Mark wanted," Amanda said. "Only the plastic blocks have teeth marks on, the others are fine."  
  
"Thanks Amanda, set it down just over here," Mark said, showing her to an empty corner of the room.  
  
"You'd have never known the difference between the trash and the toys," Jesse noted. "They're all just the same shape really."  
  
Mark had been struck in the face with an idea. "Jesse, you are a genius," he said, snapping his fingers.  
  
"Those are words you don't hear too often," Steve remarked, getting a thump on the back for it.  
  
"What Jesse has said has made me think of plan, one to lure Eric Birch to us, instead of chasing him, which hasn't actually worked so far."  
  
"Didn't you find him yesterday?" Amanda asked.  
  
"Waited for over an hour, but it was obvious that no one was home," Steve said.  
  
"So, how do you plan on luring him out?" Ally spoke up.  
  
"He wants you dead, am I right?"  
  
"He's given me a really big hint of that," Ally told him.  
  
"So, we give him to you, dead," Mark said.  
  
"That's giving him what he wants, you know," Ally said.  
  
"But you won't really be dead," Mark explained. "You will be in a bodybag, pretending to be dead."  
  
"What, so you leave him a note, giving up as it were, and leaving a body somewhere for proof?" Amanda asked.  
  
"He'll come and collect it, and we'll ambush him," Steve finished.  
  
"What if he goes and makes sure I'm really dead?" Ally asked.  
  
"We'll equip you in bullet-proof vest and helmet," Steve told her.  
  
"I don't think that Ally should do it, now that I think about it," Mark said. "It's too risky, you've got a broken arm already."  
  
"We'd need someone about her size to go in her place," Amanda said. All eyes looked at one person.  
  
"Me?" Jesse squeaked.  
  
"It will be harmless," Steve assured him. "We'll be right there in the wings for when he comes to collect the body."  
  
"And you'll be properly bullet-proof," Mark added.  
  
"You've got nothing to worry about," Amanda put in.  
  
It was the look in Ally's eyes that made Jesse agree. The look that asked him to do it for her, so that it would all be over, and she could start to live a normal life. Jesse couldn't say no to that look.  
  
"I'll do it," he mumbled. "But this plan had better work!"  
  
"When have any of my plans gone wrong?" Mark asked him.  
  
"I'm going to leave that as a rhetorical question," Jesse muttered. 


	17. Winning at a Price

Winning at a Price  
  
  
  
Amanda walked up to the front door of the shabby-looking house in her dark clothes and low-brimmed hat. Instead of ringing the doorbell, she slipped the letter under the door so that a crack could be seen from inside. When this was done, she signalled to a policeman waiting in a car over the other side of the street, and quickly headed around the corner to her car.  
  
The policeman, called Jeff Barrett, waited patiently in the car. The radio was on quietly, and his burger sat on the dashboard. He received frequent calls from Steve, but each time reported nothing.  
  
Then, four hours after Amanda had placed the note, the door opened a crack, and a man picked up the note. Jeff got his camera out, and snapped away. The man had slick black hair, a big nose, and was unshaven for what could have been four or five days. This is our guy, Jeff thought to himself.  
  
  
  
Eric Birch took the note inside, and shut the door. He knew very few people, if anyone at all, who lived in LA, and he had no idea of whom the note could be from. He opened it, and smiled as he read it.  
  
'Uncle Eric  
  
I guessed it was you all this time. Took me a while, but I figured you out. I haven't told anyone, though. My little secret. Anyway, you want revenge against everyone to do with my mother's death, don't you? So that's Frankie Pasco, he's the guy behind the shootings, my father, and of course, me. You want them all dead so you know that they are feeling the same as your sister is. In the process, you've hurt so many people. Like Jesse. What did he ever do to you?  
  
So, this is a plea to stop hurting them now. This is my suicide note. If you want to be sure that I'm dead, you should go to 2245 Baker Street, the old warehouse. There, you'll find me in a black body bag. By now, I'm probably long gone; I probably popped those pills hours ago. It's over now, Eric. Don't ask me what you've achieved by it though, because I don't know.  
  
Yours, Ally.'  
  
Eric grinned. He had won. He got his coat, walked out of the front door.  
  
"Bingo," Jeff thought to himself, dialling Steve's number.  
  
  
  
"How did you find out that Pasco was behind the shootings, Dad?" Steve asked his father as they waited at the warehouse.  
  
"I did some reading up about Pasco, and found that he was accused of murder and attempted murder at about the time Ally's mom died. There was not enough evidence to bring it forward, but I guessed that Birch must have known that Pasco was behind it, because Pasco was on his hit list. I doubt that Pasco was a pawn in the game."  
  
"Either that, or you guessed," Steve supposed.  
  
"It's not often that I guess, and when I do, I tend to get it right," Mark protested.  
  
Steve was saved by the ring of his cell phone. After a few words, Steve called to the officers in the warehouse.  
  
"That was Barrett," he told them. "He is following Birch and he is heading this way. Get to your places, and remember the plan. Act ONLY when I give the word." Officers scuffled into the hiding places, ready to act.  
  
Steve came onto to the black bag that lay on the floor. "Ready?" He gave the bag a small tap with the toe of his foot. "Make sure that helmet and bullet proof vest are secure."  
  
"They're fine," a muffled voice came from inside the bag.  
  
"Good. Remember, don't move."  
  
"Sure," Jesse mumbled.  
  
Steve got to his place, and waited for the big feat.  
  
Five minutes later, the door of the warehouse swung open, and in walked the man. He saw the bag in the middle of the floor, and smiled.  
  
"So, I finally won," he said, talking to himself. "The three people behind my sister's death are gone, and they have paid their price."  
  
"Just so I know this is not a trick," Eric pulled out a gun and shot at the black bag twice. He was mildly surprised to hear a cry, but more surprised that the cry did not sound like that of a twelve-year-old girl.  
  
"Freeze, Birch," Steve said. A dozen armed officers surrounded him. "Drop your weapon."  
  
Mark was waiting behind Steve, and had a huge desire to go and get Jesse out of the bag. He was sure that at least one of the bullets had gone into him, probably his leg. Mark knew he couldn't move before Birch dropped the gun.  
  
Steve knew what his father was thinking. "I said drop it, Birch!" Eric gave up, and slowly placed the gun on the ground.  
  
Finally Mark ran to the body bag whilst the officers took Birch away.  
  
"Jess," Mark opened the bag to see Jesse clutching his upper leg. Blood was pouring from the wound.  
  
"How many hit you?" Steve asked.  
  
"One," Jesse growled.  
  
"All right, don't worry," Mark said, putting pressure on the wound.  
  
"An ambulance is on the way," Steve told them.  
  
"Sit tight, Jesse," Mark tried his best to comfort him.  
  
"Glad I was wearing this," Jesse pointed to the vest. "I'd be doubly dying if I wasn't."  
  
"Jesse, you aren't dying," Mark said a little uneasily. "You're going to be fine."  
  
"But I've lost a lot of blood, look at all that…"  
  
Mark cut him off. "I promise Jesse, you will be fine."  
  
Jesse's eyes began to close. "I believe you, Mark." With those last words, he passed out.  
  
Steve began to get worried. "He will be all right, right?"  
  
"I don't know the extent of the damage yet," Mark said. "The bullet may have possibly gone through to a major artery."  
  
"We can fix that, right?" Steve asked hopefully.  
  
"Sure, but that ambulance had better hurry up before he loses much more blood."  
  
Both father and son prayed that the ambulance would arrive soon.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Hi! The story is almost finished. One query to Jenben: I honestly do not know what it means to be Mary Sue (I'm really not lying.) If you next review, or anyone, please explain?! Anyway thanks everyone for carrying on reading, Bec :) 


	18. More Problems

More Problems  
  
  
  
Mark rode to the hospital in the ambulance with Jesse, who was still unconscious. The paramedics had managed to sustain the bleeding, but Jesse had lost a lot of blood, and surgery would need to remove the bullet.  
  
"Don't give up now, Jess," Mark whispered.  
  
After what seemed to be an eternity, the ambulance drew up outside the hospital. Mark hopped out of the ambulance, and escorted the gurney into the hospital.  
  
Doctors surrounded the gurney, and Mark could only watch as his friend was rolled into an ER room.  
  
Steve came into the hall at that moment. "Is he okay?"  
  
"I honestly don't know," Mark sighed, sitting down on a chair.  
  
Steve sat next to him. "I promised that he'd be okay," he said to no one in particular.  
  
"We all did," Mark told him.  
  
"And we let him down," Steve said, voicing Mark's thoughts.  
  
  
  
Meanwhile, Ally was waiting at home for the phone call from Jesse, Mark or Steve to let her know how the plan was going. The phone rang and she jumped.  
  
"Hello?" She asked, expecting it to be one of the three. Instead, she heard an unfamiliar female voice.  
  
"Hi, am I talking to Ally Blake?" the voice asked.  
  
"Depends who you are," Ally replied.  
  
"My name is Dawn Langley, and I'm from the social services."  
  
Ally gulped. "Carry on."  
  
"Well, I know about your current situation, and I know of someone who wants to see you."  
  
"Who?"  
  
"A woman called Claire Hudson wishes to meet you," the woman explained.  
  
"Do I know a Claire Hudson? I think not, so what would she want to see me about? Unless she happens to be the head teacher at my school, in which case, the social services would be calling me. So, explanation?"  
  
"Claire Hudson is your real mother," Dawn told her, getting tired of Ally's attitude. "She wants to meet you."  
  
This shut Ally up. "My real mother? She wants to meet me?"  
  
"That's right," Ms. Langley confirmed.  
  
Took her long enough, Ally thought to herself.  
  
"Is she sure about that? I mean, it's taken a long time to make that kind of decision."  
  
Dawn noted that the girl sounded a bit more human now. "She has been considering it for a long time now, and she really wants to meet you."  
  
"Can I think about it?" Ally asked.  
  
"Of course," Dawn told her. "Here's my number, phone me back soon when you have an answer."  
  
Ally put the phone down, full of questions.  
  
"My mom wants to meet me," she murmured to herself, sliding down the wall that she was leaning against.  
  
"What am I meant to do? I wish I wasn't the only one home."  
  
  
  
At the hospital, Jesse was being rolled out of surgery. Mark stood up as he saw the gurney roll by.  
  
"How did it go?" Mark asked the doctor who performed the surgery.  
  
"Fine, Jesse will be fine," the doctor replied. "How are you holding up?"  
  
"Okay," Mark replied. "When can we see him?"  
  
"In a few minutes, when they've settled him in his room."  
  
"Okay then," Mark said, sitting back down on the chair. Both men had a look of relief on their faces.  
  
"We'd better call Ally," Steve remembered. "She's probably pretty worried by now."  
  
Mark whipped his cell phone out and called his home number.  
  
"Hi," Ally picked up the phone.  
  
"Hi Ally, it's Mark."  
  
"Hi, did it work? Is he locked up and has someone swallowed the key yet?"  
  
"Not that simple, Ally. Yes, we've got him, but we had a bit of trouble along the way."  
  
"Trouble?"  
  
"Eric shot Jesse in the leg, it was a bit messy but it's all sorted out now," Mark explained. "He's recovering in the hospital now. Don't worry; I called to let you know what has happened. I'll be home soon, or Steve."  
  
Ally nodded. She was not really in the mood to talk just then. On top of wondering about meeting her real mother, she was now worried about Jesse. What else was life going to throw at her?  
  
"Ally?" Mark asked, not hearing an answer.  
  
"Yeah, I'm here, sorry," Ally said. "Can I make myself a sandwich or something?"  
  
"Yeah, knock yourself out, just leave the house standing for when I get back," Mark chuckled. "We won't be long."  
  
Ally put down the phone. She wasn't really in the mood for anything to eat, it was just something to say to Mark. Her problems kept mounting up for her. One minute, life was swimming along smoothly, then her father died and she was moved to Jesse's, then she kept being chased by a murderer, then her real mother called, and then just when the murderer is caught, Jesse gets injured. More problems that one girl needs in her life at one time.  
  
And Ally had no one to turn to. 


	19. It Hurts, But It's Right

It Hurts, But It's Right  
  
  
  
Something had to be done, and that something was Ally going to the hospital. She had to see someone, to tell someone what had happened.  
  
She decided that telling Jesse wouldn't do a lot of good. For one thing, he would probably give a biased opinion on the situation, either one way or the other. She wouldn't be able to see all of the facts. Also, there was the problem of him having just undergone surgery.  
  
Steve? No way. Steve was not one of the most warm and friendly of characters that Ally had ever met. She realised that he probably had a good side; only she had not yet seen it.  
  
What about Mark? How could Ally tell Mark? Mark would be along the same lines as Jesse, wanting either one or the other. Mark was wise, but maybe a bit towards one side of an argument more than the other, Ally thought to herself.  
  
That left one person. Amanda. It was going to have to happen, she was going to have to talk to someone, and if it was going to be anyone, it was going to be Amanda.  
  
Ally got the plan going. She found the address book in the house, and found Amanda's address. Then, she found a street map and found the route. Lastly, she found her father's motorbike stowed away in the Sloan's garage. "Keys," she mumbled to herself. "Where would they hide the keys?"  
  
After half an hour of searching, Ally found the keys in a drawer in the hallway. She got the helmet, and set off on the bike toward Amanda's house.  
  
Sometime later, Ally found the house. Making sure that no one was in sight, she took off her helmet and crept up to the front door. She trembled slightly as she pressed the doorbell, and scolded herself for being afraid.  
  
Ally was relieved when Amanda came to the door. "Ally!" she gasped. "What on earth are you doing here?"  
  
"Well, you know, the sun is shining, birds are singing, and I've got more problems than I can handle," Ally told her straight. "Please, help me."  
  
"Of course," Amanda ushered the girl inside. She sat her down on the couch, and brought her a drink. "I've heard from Mark," Amanda said. "He told me about Jesse. You've heard, I imagine."  
  
"That's one of the troubles I've brought with me," Ally explained.  
  
"What else is troubling you?" Amanda asked.  
  
"Got a phone call today from the social," Ally told her.  
  
"Do they want to take you away from Jesse?" Amanda exclaimed.  
  
"No. See, I was adopted when I was a younger. My mom wasn't my real mom, but she may as well have been, because I've known no one else. Anyways," she continued. "My real mom wants to meet me. Someone called Claire something, Claire Hudson; that was it. Anyway, she wants to meet me."  
  
Amanda stopped for a second, and put down her drink. "She wants to meet you? How do you feel about this?"  
  
"Well, considering I haven't got a lot of family to go to right now, except Jesse, pretty good. But, Jesse's been great to me. I spent the last four years being the rebel, and then suddenly I meet Jesse and he sorts me out. That's pretty special."  
  
"That is pretty special, I agree," Amanda said. "But, you may want to think. How would you feel, being your real mom, if you knew that you had a daughter out there?"  
  
"I'd want to meet her," Ally admitted. "But she doesn't know what I've been through in my life. Hell, she doesn't know what I've been through in the past two months, the past day, or even the past hour!"  
  
"Ally, I don't know what you've been going through, and I know most of the events. I know you! Just because she's a perfect stranger doesn't mean that she won't relate to you in time. And that's a blood relative…" Amanda's voice trailed off.  
  
"Did I miss something?" Ally asked, never missing a single motion.  
  
"I do have a rough idea what it's like to live with someone you don't know. I was a foster child, and I was looked after by a stranger. That didn't matter to me. Someone cared for me. Someone wanted to care for me, and I am sure that your mom wants to care for you just as much as my mom did, and still does."  
  
"That's all very well and good, Amanda, but you keep forgetting one thing. Just like you can put my Mom in that position, you can put Jesse in that position, too. Only two differences. One, that woman called my mother is a bit closer in relation to me. Two, my mother isn't the one who's hurt for my sake right now. Amanda, what am I going to do?"  
  
Amanda opened her mouth, and shut it again. The girl had a point. "Well, there's only one thing. You should be talking to Jesse about this, not me."  
  
"But he's tied up at the moment," Ally said.  
  
"Wait until he's feeling a bit better," Amanda advised.  
  
"All right," Ally sighed.  
  
"Need a lift to the hospital?" Amanda asked her.  
  
"Well, my bike is still here," Ally pondered.  
  
"Bike as in motorbike?" Amanda asked, afraid of the answer.  
  
"Do I have any other bike?" Ally grinned.  
  
  
  
At the hospital, Ally sat waiting for Mark in his office. Jesse had been moved out of recovery, and Ally was waiting for Mark to tell her the number of his room. Mark had given her the brief of the surgery, telling her that everything went fine.  
  
"Hey," Mark said, "he's ready for visitors now. Don't look so worried, everything's fine."  
  
That's what you think, Ally thought to herself as she followed Mark to Jesse's room.  
  
Inside, Jesse's face turned from exhaustion to happiness when he saw Ally. He would have to be happy to see me, Ally thought to herself.  
  
"Hi," Ally greeted shyly. "How are you feeling?" She made her way towards the bed as Mark silently left the room.  
  
"Not so bad," Jesse replied, manoeuvring himself to sit up in the bed. "How about you?"  
  
Ally swallowed. "Could be better."  
  
"What's up?" Jesse asked, concern taking over.  
  
"Well, you've been shot, haven't you," Ally reminded him.  
  
"Is that all?"  
  
"Nope," Ally squeaked.  
  
"Well, what else is bugging you?"  
  
Ally sighed, and told Jesse the whole story; from the moment she got that phone call that afternoon. As he heard the story, Jesse began to inwardly become more and more saddened. He did not want to lose Ally for anything, but he knew what was best for Ally.  
  
Ally concluded her story. "What do you think I should do?"  
  
Jesse gritted his teeth. "I know what you want, and I know that what you want is best for you. This will be the last time you get moved about somewhere."  
  
Ally's eyes widened. "Just like that? You are letting me go, just like that?"  
  
"I am standing out of the way to let you have what you know you really want," Jesse rephrased for her.  
  
Ally was lost for words. Someone was letting her have her own way, and she didn't know how to deal with it. All she could say was "thank you," and give Jesse a hug.  
  
Mark walked in then. "Jess, you need some rest, and I need to take Ally home. I'll be back later to check on you. Don't go anywhere."  
  
Jesse strained a smile as they left, and as the door closed, he turned to look at toward the floor. Memories were shooting through his mind like outtakes of a film.  
  
The day he met Ally. He didn't really want to keep her at first, but something changed inside him, and he fought to keep her. And for what? She was leaving now. She was going to a complete stranger who is very closely related to her. It all happened so fast that Jesse was beginning to feel dizzy.  
  
"C'mon, Travis," Jesse muttered to himself. "You didn't want her in the first place. Suddenly she is going to leave, and you turn all emotional? What changed?"  
  
Jesse knew the truth. He had grown to like Ally a lot. He did not want to see her go. But Jesse knew something else, too. He had to put Ally's feelings far before his own.  
  
"It hurts, but its right," Jesse said, feeling more satisfied.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
A.N. Hi! It's getting a bit (the word 'rubbish' covers it) bad this story right now but I apologise for this, and as suggested I will come back later on and redo it so that it's a bit better. For now I have one more chapter to put up. Then these lovely exams better known as GCSEs that someone dreamed up that I have to do, but that's another story. See ya! 


	20. Epilogue

Epilogue  
  
  
  
Ally and Claire Hudson strolled along the beach. Claire had taken her sandals off, and they were swinging idly from her hand. Ally walked along barefoot, carrying no shoes.  
  
The sun was setting over the horizon of the sea. Its rays glittered on the ripples of the ocean, turning the sea a mix of blue and yellow. The sky was changing to a light yellow, with tinges of orange dotted.  
  
The mother and daughter sat down on the soft sand. They had so much to say, but words were wedged in each one's throat like a crowd of people trying to barge through a door. They were locked together, and could not budge.  
  
Ally spoke first. "I have so many questions. Like a million of them."  
  
"Ask me some," Claire replied.  
  
"What happened with you and Dad? Did you really want to give me up? Why have you decided to see me now?"  
  
As the two figures talked about the past twelve years, a figure stood on the familiar beach house balcony. This is how it was meant to be, he thought to himself. This is how it should have been from the beginning. He pushed his blonde tousled hair out of his face, and walked inside, feeling satisfied with the knowledge that Ally was in safe hands.  
  
  
  
  
  
A.N. Hi! This is a prime example of me really not being able to cope with the endings of stories. I blame stress of exams. What a short and sweet note that was. Keep your heads up high and see ya soon! :) 


End file.
